The Illuminated Order
by MadMaxofHazardUs
Summary: Cavortius Pelelius, a former servant of Mannimarco, flees High Rock to Morrowind, leaving his dream of becoming a lich behind. But when rumors of a crazed man near Balmora claiming to be a lich surface, he can't help thinking that its not a coincidence.
1. A Whisper In A Cave

-1_Author's Note: This is a story crafted out of love for the ingenuity of the Morrowind mod, The Illuminated Order. In it, you become embroiled in a faction of researchers dabbling in illegal practices, but not for evil intentions. Ultimately, it culminates with the transformation into…well, let's just say that if you played the mod you'll know. :P But for those who haven't, I won't spoil it. Also, here in the prologue, I make Balmora larger than described in-game because it just feels right. So enjoy! P.S. I do not own Morrowind, or the mod in which this story is based off of. The main character and certain things are of my creation._

The Illuminated Order

Prologue - A Whisper In A Cave

In a bar, it is not unusual for the patrons to be talking loud, starting fights, or dancing outrageously. Balmora was known for being a big commercial and residential city and relatively free of crime. Five clubs sit at various places throughout the city: the Fighter's Club to the west of the Temple, Eight Plates near the northern gate, the Lucky Lockup and Council Club near the south gate, and the South Wall Cornerclub on the southeast side of town.

Out of the five, the Fighter's Club and Eight Plates were the most notorious for different reasons. The Fighter's Club brought entertainment to Balmora's citizens in the form of hand-to-hand bouts in a walled-off ring and was known for its illegal gambling on the matches. Eight Plates was an entirely different matter: late at night the town dancers performed titillating shows that were definitely illegal because they got totally naked and sometimes, full-on sex would occur before every set of drunken eyes.

Such a thing was occurring before Senzani Na's eyes as he sat in a lone corner of Eight Plates, although he wasn't drunk. Some Dunmer male was having sex with an Imperial who was on her knees, but he could've cared less (mainly because he couldn't see it through the sea of bodies that observing the act, cheering all the while) Even so, he hadn't even known why he'd come here. Senzami was of a much higher capacity; this he knew to be the truth.

_Damned barbarians! _he thought, looking at his dark green skin and wishing it wasn't there. _I come in here for a drink, and a quiet setting, but damn it Senzani you n'wah! You should've known this would happen!_

"You all are below me," he muttered, though Senzani wasn't even aware that he was doing so. "You all don't know what I'm capable of. You're all equivalent to Guar feces."

Still unaware that his voice was increasing in volume, the Dark Elf also didn't notice a few patrons look back in his direction, then back at the sexual acts at the front of the bar.

"Everyone here doesn't understand the wisdom of the old days," he said at a normal volume. "You don't see me! You can't even comprehend this sight before you!"

As his voice continued raising to a yell, nearly half the patrons in the bar were looking in his direction as he continued screaming incoherently. It all ended when he proclaimed, "I. Am. A. Lich!!"

For some time, silence filled the room. Then all at once, everybody (even the dancers and their partners) started laughing at him.

"You stupid elf, you're no lich! You got skin like everyone else!"

"Quit drinking that ale, fetcher!"

"You're pathetic!"

As Senzani sat in his chair, looking down at the table, and tapping his fingers, the insults and taunts were fueling his rage. Finally, he snapped and through his bottle of ale at a random patron.

"FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU BARBARIC S'WITS! I ASPIRE TO GREAT THINGS YOUR SMALL MINDS CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE!"

He stood and grabbed one of the chairs sitting at his table and clumsily threw it in the direction of the bar's patrons, which caused them to move out of the way. With that last act, he stormed out of the bar and left Balmora through the north gate.

_**TWO DAYS LATER…**_

The motion to reach for his short-sword was an automatic reflex, but in this case it was a false alarm as Cavortius Pelelius entered Balmora's southern gate, his burlap travel bag slung over his left shoulder. He scanned the streets, feeling lost and confused, but knew that it would only be a matter of time before he got his bearings straight.

Born into an upper-class home in the Breton province of High Rock, he was five feet eight inches tall with a medium build, blue eyes, and short dark brown hair. Cavortius was not the average arrogant Imperial…weell, he was to an extent, but in a completely different context. At a young age, Cavortius became interested in the arcane areas of magic. He considered himself a battle mage, though not of the usual sort. Instead of heavy armor, which was the preferred type of armor for persons in his profession, he donned a robe and light armor on certain occasions.

His nobility and family connections allowed him as such to train with the Queen of Wayrest's personal bodyguards. His family bounced back and forth between Wayrest and Daggerfall, and the combat training benefited the young Imperial. What differentiated him from the average Imperial noble of his then-young age was that he wasn't afraid of getting roughed up or bloodied up.

Yet even though he loved the training and experience he gained, sword-fighting wasn't his true passion. His roots were seeded in magic, particularly the areas of Destruction and Mysticism. His study of these arts lead him into more sinister thoughts and practices, a fact that he had worked hard to keep hidden from his family. Eventually, Cavortius gained the courage to contact a group of necromancers and was granted special exceptions due to his nobility.

This group, led by Mannimarco (a.k.a. The King of Worms), were researching on the best ways to turn themselves into Liches, or undead mages capable of powerful magical abilities. Everything fell apart when the guards of Daggerfall raided Scourge Barrow, the main headquarters of the group on the outskirts of the city. His identity must've been discovered because Cavortius was the only noble in the group and who knew if he had been followed? The one thing the young Imperial wasn't versed well in was spy craft.

For fear of his own life at the hands of the guards, as well as the necromancers, he seeked out his friend Darius, a Redguard shipmaster who agreed to take Cavortius out of the province on one of his normal shipping operations. Wanting to get as far away as possible from High Rock, the Imperial hid on board his friend's ship for months before reaching the last stop on his journey, which was the port of Ebonheart in southern Vvardenfell.

Through it all, though, from the day Scourge Barrow was raided, Cavortius Pelelius didn't stop thinking of the dream he had had on the ship. He had seen himself in a thick black robe, casting powerful spells from his bony fingertips at unseen opponents--an almighty, powerful lich. But that dream was gone, and he now found himself in a strange, unknown land--the home of the Dunmer.

Cavortius only knew bits and pieces--that it was here the Dwemer vanished, where House Dagoth was utterly destroyed, and where the local religion was the Tribunal. Other than those three bits of information, his knowledge of Morrowind was nil.

His older brother Cunius happened to be in Ebonheart at the time of his arrival, but he wasn't much help. Cunius had said that he was busy with matters regarding House Hlaalu, and that he was sorry he couldn't help. He recalled that Hlaalu was one of the five Great Houses…as well as the most corrupt one.

_Bastard,_ Cavortius had thought. _You always were abusive to me, you piece of shit. It's no surprise that you're part of Hlaalu--money is involved. _Cavortius hated his older brother.

So without any help or guide, he had stumbled through what was known as the Bitter Coast through the towns and fields, wondering why in Oblivion he was getting weird looks. It was confusing and maddening enough to be an 'outlander', but the rudeness couldn't be explained. So upon reaching Balmora, it made sense for him to find a tavern, a source of information. A female Argonian was waddling past him and he stopped her.

"The prey approaches," she greeted in the way Argonians do.

"Good day," Cavortius politely replied. Growing up in a nobility had its advantages. "Where can I find the nearest tavern?"

The Argonian raised her eyebrows. "There are five around here. The Council Club and Lucky Lockup are behind me, the Southwall Cornerclub is across the Odai on the east side of town, and the Fighter's Club and Eight Plates are to the north." As she said each name, she indicated their location with a clawed finger.

"Wow, that's quite the selection."

She nodded. "It's one of the main reasons why Balmora is such a popular destination after Vivec. Me, I prefer the Eight Plates, though only during the day."

"I'll take you up on that," Cavortius said, smiling. "Thank you, I'll be on my way now."

"Farewell."

True to his word, Cavortius headed north past the Fighters Guild and Mages Guild and came to two buildings before him connected by a small bridge, Deducing the left-hand building to be a store, he proceeded to the right-hand building and entered through the latch-cord door. He expected a fair amount of people at this time a day drinking themselves silly.

Inside, however, only four patrons were present and the publican was behind the bar. From the looks of it, the place seemed to be trashed but not in the normal way that taverns get trashed.

"What happened here?" Cavortius asked lightly.

For a moment, no one said anything until the publican spoke. "A crazed man has come in here the past two days, ranting about how stupid we are and that he was a lich. Also that he knows things that our minds can't understand."

For a few moments, Cavortius' interested piqued at the mention of his dream life, but it quickly died out. "A lich, you say? Was he drunk?"

"Most likely," she continued. "But I'm not so sure now. Early this morning, he came in and trashed it again. I had one of the guards track him to a cave next to the first bridge on the way to Caldera. They can't prove he's a psycho, and he could've been drunk, but it doesn't hurt to check, you know?"

Cavortius nodded. "Agreed. You can never be so sure sometimes. By the way, can I get a bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy?"

"Sure."

The Imperial took a seat at one end of the bar and the Dunmer publican slid the bottle down the bar's surface. He caught it in his right hand, popped the cork with his thumb and took a sip, mulling over this new information.

_So a man claims to be a lich, huh?_ he thought to himself. _She also mentioned that he knew things that no normal person could understand. What could that mean?_

It was all very confusing. On the one hand, this man could be stone-cold crazy. On the other hand, he might very well be trying to turn himself into a lich. The fact that lichs were being brought up again here in Vvardenfell seemed like a conincidence, which it was. The way the publican had related the news made it seem like a rumor, and the publican probably doesn't work every day.

Nevertheless,he didn't want to raise any suspicions by immediately rushing off, so he sat at the bar for a few more drinks and even bought a room for the night.

Cavortius made the decision to venture out at nightfall for the cave, as he was very tired from walking straight to Balmora from Vivec. Upon finding his room down the stairs away from the bar, he squared away his gear and collapsed onto the bed.

The last thing he did before doing so, though, was locking the door tight and keeping his short-sword within reach of him. After that, he was out.

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Of all the things that could wake him, a bang on his door was the last thing on his mind.

Cavortius' upper body shot up straight as he reached for the short-sword in one fluid motion. He heard it again and quickly threw on his shirt and black robe. The bang resonated once more, and for the first time the Imperial thought he heard music faintly filtering through the door.

With the tip of the sword pointed at the door and with one hand on the door latch, he took a deep breath, and exhaled--at the same moment, he pulled the door open. What greeted him was both unexpected and shocking.

The music became more loud and an Imperial male's back was facing him…butt included. A Dark Elf woman's arms were hanging around the strong man's neck and the Dunmer woman cried out in surprise. This in turn caused the Imperial to become startled and fall to the floor on his back, placing the woman right on top of them and the man in pain.

The Dark Elf woman gave an embarrassed expression, flushing red like lava. "Um, sorry, we didn't know--"

Cavortius held up his hand as he gathered his travel sack, slung it over his shoulder, and put the hood on his robe up. He then sheathed his weapon. "I don't care, just…use the damned room."

He stepped over the pair's entangled bodies and turned to walk up the ramp into the bar, but stopped. Before him were nude dancers gyrating erotically to sultry music and lucky males stepping up to…have sex?

_What in Oblivion is up with this place?!_ Cavortius thought, only half discouraged by what he saw--the dancers were quite attractive, and the men quite lucky.

Nevertheless, he couldn't let such tomfoolery stop his mission. His dream was to become a lich and crazed man or not, the cave just outside of town could be the first stepping stone to his journey.

As he placed a hand on the door to the exit, he briefly thought how absurd he was for passing up an erotic encounter for wanting to be undead. Cavortius laughed at his own madness and exited the tavern.

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"I'll show all those bastards that I'm a lich!" Senzani Na shouted, pocketing various random ingredients for the preparation ahead of him. "I have it all! Everything but the phylactery of divinity, which will soon be in my grasp!"

In his rucksack were two pieces of raw ebony and a diamond. On the top of his head was a helmet made from the bones of a troll and in his hands was a wooden staff. He was all set to go.

As he made for the entrance to his cave, he thought he heard the door rattling, like someone trying to get the door open.

_Vivec's testicles! _Senzani cursed. _I must've been followed!_

The Dark Elf quickly scurried back to his part of the cave and crouched behind a screen.

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When Cavortius stepped through, he had his short-sword out and ready in case of attack. Inside the first part was a small circular room that went high up to the ceiling, with ebony deposits lining the wall in front of him. Nothing came at him, but he didn't let his guard down. The blade was only for close-combat; his repertoire of spells was what would help him succeed, and being an ex-servant of Mannimarco had advantages and spells that the local Mages Guild couldn't readily prepare. Yet despite his shady affiliation, he still had a noble's blood in him and believed in settling things out as peacefully as possible.

The cave was sufficiently lit to the point that he didn't need to cast Night-Eye, so with that out of the way, he proceeded down a right-hand passage that emerged into a bigger room with a table, chair, bedroll and some chests.

Not to mention a screen with a torch behind it that was casting an unnatural shadow. Then again, torches in caves tended to cast unnatural shadows to begin with, and this caused him to drop his guard (if only a fraction)

"Anybody here?" he called out, uncertain.

Nothing.

He slowly walked into the room, turning in a circle slowly so he could see anyone coming at him from a blind spot. The fact that the guy may be invisible crossed his mind, but there were tell-tale signs to determine if one was cloaked. But right now, there was nothing.

As he got closer to the screen, he called out again. "Hey listen! If you're just a guy who likes to drink and think he's a lich, that's all good! Just say so, and I'll leave."

Not taking the unnatural shadow for what it was happened to be Cavortius' first mistake. His second was letting his guard down slightly, which allowed a Dark Elf in a yellow robe to smack him in the face with a wooden staff.

The sudden blow to the face surprised him enough that he fell to the ground and dropped his travel bag. The sound of footsteps running followed.

"You stupid Imperial fuck,I _am_ a Lich!" a voice called out, the footsteps seeming to make their way for the entrance.

The Imperial necromancer caught a glance of the man running, and was thankful for having been a servant to the King of Worms. Mannimarco had taught Cavortius a version of Telekinesis that not only could be used on inanimate objects, but on humanoids as well. With some effort, Cavortius stuck his left hand out and concentrated on the flow of magicka within him. He whipped his arm back and was pleased to see the Mer ripped off his feet and sent flying back into the room.

Pelelius knew that diplomacy wasn't going to work now, so he grabbed his short-sword and charged for the Dunmer's prone form. But despite his sudden landing, the elf was fast and dodged a downward blow by rolling to his left and causing the necromancer's blade to be stuck in the dirt.

As the Imperial tried to pull it out, the Dunmer whacked him on the back with his staff. A lance of pain shot through him and he screamed.

"Didn't I tell you drunk fools that you're all fucking stupid?!" the Mer cried. He whacked Cavortius on the back again. "And I didn't I tell you that you can't understand the magic of old?!"

The third crash on his back from the wooden staff pushed the Imperial over the edge. He gripped the Dark Elf's leg and sent a powerful Firebite spell through his fingers. As predicted, the man's robe caught on fire and he frantically began stomping about--or dancing, as Cavortius liked to call it--to put it out.

This distraction was all the Imperial needed to grab his short-sword and stab the Mer's side, which caused a spray of blood and a hint of intestine to come out of the hole. The Mer was dead.

Cavortius rummaged through his travel bag for a potion to heal his wounds and guzzled half of it down. The pain in his back started to fade, and he got to his knees to examine the body.

In the Mer's rucksack were two pieces of raw ebony and a diamond…as well as a rolled up piece of parchment paper. Ignoring the valuables, Cavortius quickly unrolled the letter and read it:

"Senzani Na --

We have been watching since learning of your interests. We know what you seek to accomplish, and we offer the following information that may interest you. According to 'The Red Book of Worms', the ingredients you will require are a diamond, two pieces of raw ebony, a wooden staff, and the bones of a troll (it matters not if they have been shaped into something).

Additionally and most important is possession of a phylactery of divinity. While we cannot state with certainty where you may find one, we believe that if you seek in the bowels of the Heran Ancestral Tomb your efforts will be rewarded. The tomb is to be found along the coast, southwest of the settlement of Hla Oad. You will require a key to gain entry therein, but this we leave in your capable hands to procure."

The letter wasn't signed, but it did provide the identity of the dead man. A further search of the body did in fact produce a key that Cavortius could only assume to be for the tomb. On the table was a book…a diary upon further inspection.

Just from reading this alone, he knew he had done the world a great service, for Senzani Na was truly a sick individual. Just to get the key to the tomb, he had killed a man's daughter who's ancestry was part of the tomb in order to gain access. With utter disgust, he put the book into his own travel bag, planning to give it to the publican of the Eight Plates.

As Cavortius Pelelius emerged from the cave, he pondered everything he had just learned and discovered it had begun to rain (but such a thing didn't phase him). Here he thought he would escape from his past and start a new life…but try as he might, the desire and hunger for power and immortality was there. He couldn't shake it…but he had to watch his back, for it wouldn't be long before the spy network in Daggerfall discovered that he was on the other side of Nirn. And when that happened, the garrisons on Vvardenfell would be alerted.

_Wouldn't surprise me if my own damn brother brought me in,_ he thought bitterly and shook his head.

Destiny lay before him. This was an opportunity that he didn't dare want to pass up. He didn't feel like going back in to get the other materials, for he knew they'd still be there when he got back. Cavortius knew that once he made the decision he couldn't turn back…but the benefits outweighed the risks.

_Let's check out that tomb,_ he thought and ran back to Balmora.


	2. Wild Goose Chase

-1_Author's Note: Yes it is insanely long, but it's worth it. And just so everyone knows, I will be gone for a week and won't be posting anything. I gotta enjoy the beach know? : But while I'm gone, check this out and give some feedback! Now, on with the story._

The Illuminated Order

  
Chapter 1 - Wild Goose Chase

A quick note on a piece of parchment paper, saying who's diary it was and where he had found it, was enough for Cavortius. He snuck the book onto the counter at the Eight Plates when no one was looking, then melted back through the crowds and out the door, making his way for the Silt Strider at the south gate. The rain continued to fall steadily.

When he approached the gigantic flea-like bug, the caravaner asked, "Where would you like to go?"

"Hla Oad, please," the Imperial replied.

For a brief moment, the caravaner gave the Imperial a frustrated look. "I'm sorry, outlander, but my Strider doesn't go there. The closest I can take you to there is Vivec, and then you'll have to take a boat."

"That works, sera. How much?"

"Thirty septims." Cavortius rummaged through his pockets and produced three 10-septim pieces of gold and gave them to the Dunmer, who barked a command at the Strider.

The giant bug lowered itself to allow both Cavortius and the driver to get in. The Imperial took a seat behind the caravaner and closed his eyes as the rain pounded down on his body.

He must've dozed off because the fact that the rain wasn't pounding on him anymore caused him to stir. He opened his eyes and discovered it was close to dawn, but it was still dark outside. The caravaner bid him a good morning and he headed back to Balmora, the Strider stomping away into the distance.

Cavortius found himself back in Vivec, the first place he'd been to upon his arrival, so he already knew where the boat service was. As such, he left the gangway he was currently standing on and made a left toward the city, then another down the hill to the docks.

The scale of Vivec when he first saw its large cantons had been overwhelming and still was to a degree. The god Vivec resided at the far side of the city, in the Temple canton and more specifically the High Fane. Supposedly the god's skin was both bronze and green--a reminder and symbol of what his people used to be, the Chimer.

When Cavortius had arrived, he heard the locales mention something called Red Mountain and something evil named Dagoth Ur and that the Tribunal had something to do with it. But that wasn't his problem; it was everyone else's. His current priority was finding this tomb.

The Dunmer who operated the boat was Ano Andaram, whom he had met at the docks of Ebonheart and was a rather friendly Dunmer, for he hadn't been rude in saying he was an outlander. This Dunmer rather liked helping people, and it was Cavortius' first 'friend' in Morrowind…at least, he felt it was so.

"Ah, back again, I see," Ano greeted, extending his arm for Cavortius to shake.

"Indeed," the Imperial replied, taking the hand. "Hla Oad, sera."

"Thirty-five drakes." The money was exchanged and Cavortius laid down on one of the wooden planks that doubled as benches, and the Dark Elf began to unravel the rope that was tied to the dock.

Before the boat had even begun to move, Pelelius was asleep.

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Cavortius, subconsciously, was very much enjoying the nap on the way to the small village of Hla Oad. It was surprisingly dreamless despite him having killed a man just a few hours prior.

The one thing he didn't prefer, however, was the second rude awakening within days of landing in Morrowind.

A violent jerk of the boat, accompanied by the sound of a crashing noise, served to bump the Imperial off of his makeshift bed into the boat itself. He landed hard on his chest, and _that_ was what had woken him up. He peered out over the edge of the boat, still trying to clear the sleepiness from his eyes.

It was dawn, and the sun had already began to rise overhead and the direct sunlight to his still-waking eyes was painful. Out of his peripheral he saw two ramshackle houses made of wood, clay, straw, and resin. Then he heard the sounds of two voices arguing, and when Cavortius looked toward the bow, he discovered the source of his awakening.

Somehow Ano had managed to crash part of his ship into the dock and had nearly avoided hitting another ship that was currently tied to it, thus prompting the owner of _that_ ship to yell at Ano. At least, that's what he assumed. The necromancer felt his shoulder for his travel bag, but it wasn't there--to his chagrin, he was laying on top of it.

Slinging the pack over his shoulder like a sash, he stood from the boat and stretched out his arms to rid them of the aches he felt.

"Hey, uh, Ano," Cavortius stated. Both his driver and the other shipmaster stopped arguing to glance at the Imperial.

"Oh, hey Cavortius…um, look. As you can see, I have a bit of trouble here."

"A lot of trouble!" the other shipmaster shouted, crossing her arms and glaring at Ano.

"So, uh, you've paid me and you're free to go," Ano stated.

"Okay, thank you. How will I get back?"

He cocked his head toward the Dark Elf woman. "Her."

Cavortius nodded and climbed up onto the dock and walked into the village. He looked at his map just to make sure of where he was, or rather where the village was, and put it back in his bag once he was satisfied.

However, rushing off blindly into the wilderness was a surefire way to get himself killed, so he hung around town for a bit and gathered information.

Hla Oad was aligned with House Hlaalu, which always put a foul taste in Cavortius' mouth, and it appeared that only seven buildings were in place. But what struck the Imperial most was the level of tension in the air. Everyone here seemed more hostile than others he had met, and it was more than the whole 'outlander' thing he had going for him.

Nevertheless, he managed to get directions to the tomb with the help of one of the Hlaalu Guards and even got it pin-pointed on his map. It was indeed southwest of the settlement and didn't require much of a walk. Nearby was a ship that wasn't docked at Hla Oad, but something about it told him to steer clear.

Cavortius now stood before the door to the Heran Ancestral Tomb. Just out of human nature, he tried the door, and to his surprise it opened. The tomb wasn't as lit as the cave near Balmora, so he quietly invoked his Night-Eye spell and the level of light filtering through his pupils increased.

Before him was a staircase leading to another door, and the Imperial drew his dwarves short-sword, holding his right arm out and the tip forward. He kicked open the door and was greeted by a spear-wielding skeleton, who's bony permanent grin seemed too outlandish for such a situation.

Since Cavortius was some distance away and out of sword's length, he casted a Frostball spell from his left hand and the skeleton froze in place. The Imperial quickly crossed the gap and started hacking away at the skeletal corpse, hacking both its limbs off but it managed to become unfrozen and it head-butt him to the ground.

What it did next was almost unreal. The skeleton pounced on top of his prone form and continued trying to bash its head into him! The fall had crossed him to drop his sword and that Fireball spell had cost him more than half of his magic reserves. So all he had was his arms to protect his face.

The skeleton's hard skull bashing against his arms burned like Oblivion, but gradually the undead guardian bashed its head a little too hard and its skull split in half. The skeleton collapsed on top of the Imperial, who roughly pushed it off and then retrieved his fallen short-sword.

As Cavortius proceeded through the tomb, he encountered two more skeletons and a Daedric creature known as a Scamp. Each time he encountered these creatures he tried a different method of attack--be it a spell, a summoning scroll, or his blade, but each creature fell dead in the end.

He reached what he thought to be the end of the tomb, with a door propped open with the help of a rock. He assumed it to be the end because the key he had procured from Senzani's corpse hadn't been put to use yet. In all actuality, the Imperial was becoming rather annoyed at the thought that this adventure could all be for nothing and that he was on a wild goose chase. But still he pressed on.

In the final room was a skeleton with a sword and shield. To soften it up, Cavortius casted a lightning spell. The skeleton champion twitched and convulsed in place, stunned from the electrical burst, and Cavortius charged in with his dwarves short-sword, knocking the shield out of line and chopped horizontally at the guardian's spine. It fell in two separate pieces, the sword and shield each clattering to the floor.

The Imperial stopped to put his hands on his knees and catch his breath. He was breathing heavy, mainly from exhaust, but he found yet another door standing before him when he looked up again. Reluctantly, he approached it and tried the lock. To his surprise, he met resistance and kept pushing, but it wouldn't budge--it was locked.

Pelelius' excitement suddenly shot up. _Could this be the door? _he wondered. He patted himself down, trying to find the pocket on his robe where he put the key, and was furious when it wasn't there. Yet when he looked on the ground, there it was.

He chuckled to himself--it must've fallen out when he had engaged that skeleton. Bending over, he picked it up and inserted it in the lock and turned. The door opened.

"Yes!" he exclaimed and proceeded to trod down a long narrow staircase. He still kept his guard up, though--Senzani whacking him on the back with a staff still rang clear in his memory.

As he reached the bottom of the steps, he came upon a massive, shadowy figure. His Night-Eye spell had worn out because as he had moved deeper within the Heran Ancestral Tomb, the lighting became better. But down here, it was nearly pitch-black save for a source of light behind the figure some ways away.

Cavortius moved forward in a crouch, sword at the ready, and silently invoked Night-Eye. But upon doing so, he wished he hadn't.

Somehow, the Ogrim that stood before him didn't charge him at first, as the massive bloated Daedric creature was staring right at him. But then it let out a vicious, horrible snarl and then lumbered toward Cavortius with surprising speed. That was the Imperial's cue to backpedal toward the stairs.

_How in Oblivion did it fit through the door?!_ his mind blurted. He cast two weak Firebite spells in quick succession as he reached the safety of the doorframe. His furious backpedaling and not paying attention to where the steps began caused him to trip on the bottom stair and fall backward--luckily, this saved his life as the Ogrim had swung its massive fist forward to hit the small human.

Cavortius scurried back up the stairs on his butt, casting spells at the beast. In the process, his sword fell from his hand and clattered back down the stairs toward the Ogrim, who was trying to push itself through the tiny doorframe.

"Ysmir's Beard!" he cursed. But then he had an idea. A crazy, suicidal idea, but it could just work.

When a person is charged by another in combat, the defending person usually backs away, just as the attacking opponent would suspect. But rarely does the defending person charge. And this was what Cavortius did. In doing so, he hoped to confuse the Ogrim (which, from being a necromancer, he knew weren't smart servants).

He charged back down the stairs, screaming and yelling incoherent words, and the Daedra beast briefly held a puzzled look on its face. That ended the moment Cavortius slammed his body into the creature's belly. It didn't knock him over (such creatures were very powerful), but he did make the beast stumble away from the doorframe. This distraction allowed the Imperial to scoop up his short-sword and drive it through the Ogrim's belly, carving a rough circle in its stomach and disemboweling it.

The Ogrim cried out in pain before falling flat on its face. Despite getting blood on himself, Cavortius was glad this was over. Yet the fact that an Ogrim had somehow found its way down here made him wonder.

Nevertheless, with sword still drawn, Cavortius recast his Night-Eye spell and proceeded down the long tunnel to the source of light at the end.

What he came to was a small circular altar about waist-height with a small stone chest sitting on top. The key he used for the door also worked for the chest, and here he hoped was the phylactery of divinity.

But as he opened the chest, all he found was another piece of rolled up paper and a key (which he immediately pocketed out of habit). At this point, Cavortius almost tore it up in anger over being led into a wild goose chase, but he stilled himself and unrolled the letter.

"_We are about to disappoint you, and reward you as well. There is no phylactery of divinity to be had here or, indeed, anywhere on Vvardenfell. Do not let this trouble you, however, as we have known for centuries that the instructions 'The Red Book of Worms' contains for becoming a lich are fraudulent and ineffective in any case._

_You are no doubt angry, justifiably so. Hear us out before passing judgment, however._

_We gave you information we knew was in error, and we did so willfully."_

Cavortius stared down at the piece of paper in disbelief, his eyes and mouth both wide in shock. He also had the sense to move up against the back wall in case anymore demons came out of the darkness.

_What in the Gods' names is this? _he thought wearily. Nevertheless, he kept reading.

"_It was not to waste your time that we did so, however, but rather to keep us from wasting our own. It was needful to see how determined you were in your endeavor, how much effort you would go through to further your goal of becoming a Lich. We needed to see the strength in your resolve, and having you gather the reagents specified by the Red Book (something more than one of us has, at one time or another, done as well) was an adequate means of measuring that."_

Cavortius had to keep in mind that this letter must've been written with Senzani in mind. But yet, this letter had been placed here by hand…as far as he knew, there was no type of spell or magic that could magically place letters in places.

"_We are an organization that has existed on the fringes of society in Vvardenfell for centuries, since before the coming of the Empire. We have dedicated our efforts to the study of those things the temple has deemed anathema; vampires, lycanthropes, necromancy and other, similar studies. Studies that are outlawed, whose practitioners are persecuted and executed (as we are sure you are aware). It is thus that we must maintain the secrecy with which we have cloaked ourselves for our own self-preservation._

_We are the Illuminated Order of the Invisibles. We extend to you, based on the vigorousness of your own researches, an invitation to join our number. It is an invitation extended but seldom, and we hope for your forgiveness of our deception of you and your acceptance of our offered brotherhood."_

Were it not for the fact that Cavortius had slain the recipient that this letter had been for, he would've joined straight away with this Order. After all, what this Order did was extremely intriguing and inviting. Maybe he could join anyway? But then they'd be suspicious as to how he had found them. The Imperial continued to read.

"_Lest we continue to give you the wrong impression, let us state now that we do not, sadly, know of any viable method of becoming a Lich. We have searched. We continue to do so. It eludes us. Joining us will not give you the opportunity to become a Lich, but it will open many other doors and hidden records to you._

_Should you wish to join our Order, take the key contained in this chest and travel to Balmora. There look for Demnevanni Manor. In the chambers beneath the manor you will find Thuvien Demnevanni. Recite unto him, "Behind closed eyes, realize your sight" so that he may know you, and you will be welcomed as the newest member of the Illuminated Order."_

_So that settles it then,_ Cavortius thought. _I may not become a Lich, but I can still continue my passion. _He was just about to roll up the piece of paper when, after a blank space on the scroll, he saw more writing. Curious, he began to read again.

"_Oh yes, one final thing._

_We are not fools, Cavortius. We are quite well aware you are not Senzani Na, to whom we first prepared to extend this invitation."_

"What the fuck!" Cavortius screamed, dropping the letter and backing away from it and drawing his short-sword. His first thought was that this was a trap, that the trail he thought he'd erased in High Rock had followed him here. Who knows if he had passed invisible guards on the way down the chamber? All it would take was a mage to teach the spell.

"Where are you?! Come out and fight me, you bastards!"

But for a long time, nothing emerged and nothing happened. On the verge of hysterics, Cavortius managed to pick up the scroll with a trembling hand.

"_In the end, this matters not. Whether originally intended for you or not, it was you who ran our gauntlet and satisfied our curiosity. Thus do we invite you, as we would have him. We merely do not wish for you to make the error of believing us ignorant of the truth in this matter."_

The letter ended there, once again unsigned like the note he had found on Senzani Na's body. Cavortius didn't know what to think. This could be a very elaborate trap or it could be the divine intervention he had been seeking since escaping High Rock. In a panic, he ran down the long hall, vaulted over the Ogrim's body, and sprinted as fast as possible for the tomb's entrance.

_This can't be, this must be a joke, a dream, a sick prank!_ he thought alarmingly.

When he reached the top, he pushed through the door into the outside, the sun high above his head now. He didn't care if the water near him could be dirty; it would be cold, it would wash the blood from his body, and it could also help to see if he was dreaming.

Without hesitation, Cavortius Pelelius stripped off his travel bag and jumped into the mouth of the Odai River. The water was extremely cold, but served to shock his mind and body to full alertness. After treading water for a minute, he swam for the shoreline and crawled onto the bank. He reached into his travel bag for the note…no, it was still there, and it was very real. He wasn't dreaming, he hadn't gone mad, but something just didn't smell right about this whole situation.

Instead of heading back to Hla Oad to catch a boat to Vivec, Cavortius pulled out his map and looked for Balmora. From the looks of it, if he followed the Odai River north, he would emerge in Balmora. Hopefully, the walk would give him time to think and pass the time. In the potential case that this was a trap, he wanted to walk through the southern gate at night and find the manor.

And if it was a trap, then Cavortius would go out fighting.

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The walk had taken Cavortius six hours and by the time he reached the road leading into Balmora, it was about nine o'clock. Stars glittered in the sky, and Nirn's two moons were semi-visible.

If the Illuminated Order had a base in Balmora, which seemed to be this manor mentioned in the letter, Cavortius assumed that it wouldn't be in the upper-class district where House Hlaalu 'nobles' resided. No, it would likely be in the poor part of town east of the Odai--mainly to be inconspicuous.

As Cavortius reached the south gate, he pulled the hood on his robe up and adjusted it so it obscured half of his face. When he was satisfied, the Imperial walked quickly but discreetly across the south-most bridge leading to the east side of town and walked up the stairs near a large house with a tower.

He walked down the streets, past the South Wall Cornerclub, but found nothing on the name plates mentioning a Demnevanni Manor. Becoming increasingly weary that this was a trap, his hand occasionally reached for his short-sword, but he restrained that impulse.

Cavortius walked down the stairs near the house of a man named Caius Cosades, past another house on his right, and went right on the street. The tall tower next to that house was the Eastern Guard Tower, and the Imperial knew immediately that it wouldn't be there. But next to the Guard Tower was a curious building that he didn't remember being there before.

Then again, when Cavortius had left for the cave the previous night, he had been half drunk and intensely focused on his task, so he may have missed it. As he approached the building, the tag on it said Demnevanni Manor.

The Imperial was extremely hesitant as he gripped the cord-latch on the door and looked around to see if anybody was watching. A Hlaalu Guard was making his way across the river toward the rest of the city, but that was all he could see. He inserted the key he had found in the tomb in the lock, quickly entered and shut the door behind him.

Immediately he got a strange vibe upon entering the manor. To his left was a bed with a canopy, a dresser, table and chair directly to his left, and another dresser opposite the bed. On top of the closest dresser was an open piece of paper.

Ever curious, he examined the paper without touching it. The words, written in spidery letters, sent chills down his spine: "We're watching you, Cavortius."

On the opposite wall was an evil-looking tapestry, with red light glowing from behind it. No matter how much he wanted to turn around and leave, thinking this whole thing to be a trap, some unknown force was at work and he felt himself slowly being drawn towards the tapestry. Pretty soon, he was on the other side of it and he didn't know how.

Cavortius began to slowly walk down the stairs, his hand hovering on his short-sword. The red glow, he discovered, came from a series of red candles he found in the corners of each flight he went down. There were about five flights of stairs, and he was wondering when in Talos' name it would end.

When it did, he found himself looking into a dirt chamber that resembled a cave, with a doorframe connecting the manor to this room. Inside was a bedroll, some dressers, an altar which contained three red candles, a skull, and bloody writing, and various alchemical apparatuses.

And standing behind the altar was a Dark Elf dressed in a blue robe with large pieces of gold embroidery stitched on the shoulders, chest, and neck. The expression the Dunmer had was somewhat sour, yet strangely warm and welcoming. This must've been Thuvien Demnevanni, who looked to be about a hundred years old (though he couldn't be sure, as the way that Dunmer aged was a mystery to him).

"You're standing in my light," Thuvien said blandly.

Cavortius raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of the statement, but then he remembered the phrase he was to speak. "Behind closed eyes, realize your sight," the Imperial said.

Demnevanni raised both his eyebrows and then nodded. "It is always a pleasure to meet another who will willingly step out of the light and into the shadows…where those formless and nameless howl silently for our very souls. Will you willingly step out of the light? Will you join the Illuminated Order?"

Cavortius took a deep breath and exhaled. _This is your chance. You have the potential to make some friends and family here. Do it._

"I will," Cavortius said with confidence.

"The order is well pleased with you," Thuvien replied. "We claim you as one of our own. Henceforth, you are Cavortius, the Instrument of Dark Labors, one of the Illuminated Order."


	3. In The Name of Order

-1The Illuminated Order

Chapter 2 - In The Name of Order

After the induction was complete, Thuvien Demnevanni directed Cavortius to a nearby table that had two chairs set up. "Please, have a seat. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Also, I want to get to know you a little bit."

Cavortius nodded and the two men walked to the table and each took a seat facing each other.

"First, before we begin the questions and answers," Thuvien said, "tell me about yourself."

And so Cavortius spoke. He talked about growing up as a noble in High Rock, migrating between Wayrest and Daggerfall, and about the training he had received in Wayrest. He talked at length about his interest in the dark arts and his love for magic. When he began describing how he came into contact with Mannimarco, the Dark Elf began very interested in him, giving the Imperial his full attention by leaning forward.

He talked of some of the spells he had learned and then how the group was researching on how to become a Lich, then how it all fell apart when Scourge Barrow was raided by the guards of Daggerfall and then how he made his escape. When he mentioned the Barrow, a strange expression briefly appeared on Demnevanni's face--one that he could not understand, but soon dismissed it as an odd quirk. Then he explained how he still desired to be a Lich and that upon hearing of Senzani Na's crazed ramblings, he investigated. His apprehension towards the letter he discovered was also brought up.

When Cavortius was finished, Thuvien was genuinely surprised with the young man's tale. "Well, Cavortius, that's quite the story. I'll be honest with you--it's been years since we've had a new member join the Order, but from what you just told me, you could be very essential to our order indeed. For as long as we've been around, we've never had anyone who served Mannimarco."

"Is that good or bad?" Cavortius asked, noticeably worried.

Thuvien stared at the table and tapped his fingers. Then he looked back up at the human and said, "Although normally the Order considers servants of the King of Worms as a threat, the fact that you ran instead of staying to rebuild seems to prove otherwise. But on the whole, it is a very good thing."

Cavortius nodded. "It's a part of my past I wish to forget…I mean, it took nearly six months on my friend's ship to get here. I just wanted to be as far away from High Rock as possible. But, you said I could ask some questions?"

The old Dunmer nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes. But remember, I can only answer so much."

For a few minutes, Cavortius remained silently as he thought of a series of questions to ask. Then the first one came: "I have a vague idea of what the Order does, but can you make it clearer for me?"

Again, Demnevanni nodded. "We in the Illuminated Order are secretive group that study various esoteric subjects that are…actively discouraged by the Temple. Our uniting purpose is the research into the subjects that fascinate us, however dark or forbidden."

"Tell me more of these 'esoteric subjects.'"

"Very well. I mean by that the study of vampires, lycanthropes, liches, and my own personal specialty, necromancy. Those are only our main subjects of inquiry, however. We do not limit ourselves to just these four topics, and quite a bit of effort goes into the research of other subjects as well."

He paused to reach over toward a chest and pulled out a bottle of liquor. He popped the cork and took a sip before continuing.

"My own particular field is that of the necromantic arts, as I mention. Others of our Order have more varied interests, of course."

Cavortius nodded three times. This Order sounded very interesting and he was glad that he had found all of this out. Nevertheless, he had to ask something that he felt the old Dunmer would find stupid.

"This may sound kind of dumb," Cavortius said slowly, trying to get the words out, "but, the activities the Order does…have you ever been discovered?"

"Of course," Thuvien replied. "And it's not dumb. Numerous times over the past couple of centuries, there have been a number of isolated incidents where the Temple came close to executing some of us. These individuals were dealt with, but in ways that weren't harmful.

"However, do understand, while to an outsider our research seems to be rooted in evil, it truly isn't. Our purpose is not to take over the world or kill off the entire population of Tamriel. That wouldn't benefit us or the world. In a way, we are like scientists, albeit in a different sense. Our research, while illegal, is helping us understand how some factors of nature work."

Cavortius nodded his approval; this sounded exactly like this type of guild. _Guild…is that even the right word?_ he pondered. But ultimately, this Illuminated Order seemed to be just like himself--he wanted to learn the dark arts, but in a way that would be beneficial to himself and others. However, even _he_ couldn't understand how becoming a Lich would be a good thing. The Imperial figured that that answer would come in due time.

"So what exactly does the Order do to safeguard against outside threats?" Pelelius asked, leaning back in his chair and balancing on the legs.

Thuvien Demnevanni took another sip of his drink and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. "You are already familiar with the tests we subject potential recruits to in order to determine the seriousness of their desire to seek out the forbidden mysteries. But we maintain an elaborate web of secrecy within our members' ranks as well. This is to ensure that even if individual members fall afoul of the Temple, the Order as a whole will survive. Until you have established yourself further with us, I am the only member of the Order whose existence will be made known."

"Very well, Thuvien," the Imperial replied. "Now tell me…how can I establish myself?"

"You will be assisting me in my research," the elder Dunmer replied. "This serves two purposes. First, I will provide training and background information as you perform tasks for me, which I'll get to in a moment. Second, it demonstrates your reliability to the Order and, in time, we will open further secrets to you. Assuming you're ready, I have two tasks for you."

Demnevanni stood from his seat and walked over to the dresser near his bedroll and pulled out a rolled up scroll from one of the drawers. He returned to his seat and handed it across the table to the new recruit.

"Your first task is to deliver a letter to M'aiq the Liar."

Cavortius wasn't sure if he was permitted to look over the letter, but he just had to know. "What does this letter contain?"

"As you know, we are a secretive Order. One way we maintain our secrecy is to spread deliberate misinformation, such as what is found in the letter. M'aiq will spread these lies to the unsuspecting, who will investigate--" The Dunmer smiled. "--and be disappointed in what they find.

"Having been disappointed once, they are far less likely to attempt to track down any other, possibly accurate, rumors that they hear. You may want to read the letter before delivering it, if only for a proper laugh. Let no one say necromancy is a humorless trade."

Cavortius grinned. "Alright. Where can I find this M'aiq?"

The Dunmer described at length where he could find the Khajiit: on an island east-southeast of Dagon Fel and a fair bit west of Ald Daedroth. When Thuvien asked for a map, Cavortius pulled his out and the Dark Elf marked the rough location of the man.

"This may be a simple errand, but an important one," Thuvien said before the two parted ways. "When you complete this task, report back here."

Cavortius nodded. "Will do." He then made his way out of the chamber and back up into the manor proper. Judging from his map, Dagon Fel was way the hell north in a region named Sheogorad. He shook his head--walking was out of the picture, so he made his way to the Silt Strider.

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The Imperial soon learned that he couldn't go everywhere in a Silt Strider, so he had to bounce between cities--first to Ald'ruhn, then Mar Gaan, then Khuul--before the shipmaster in Khuul took Cavortius to Dagon Fel. He had paid nearly two-hundred drakes for the trip.

While he was in transit to Mar Gaan, he took the time to read the letter he'd be delivering, and it was quite a hilarious read.

_Para-Anatometaphysical Order of Esoteric Etheria,_ Cavortius had thought with a smile and shake of his head. _How ridiculous._

Now standing on a small mountain east of Dagon Fel, he invoked a powerful water walking spell and slid down the slope on the balls of his feet into--onto--the water. He pulled out his map, scanning for Ald Daedroth. When he found it, he traced his finger west of the Daedric ruin toward a small island, then traced another finger east-southeast and the two fingers met. He replaced the map and began running on the surface of the water.

After getting lost once and many recasting of the spell, Cavortius finally spotted a Khajiit on an island wearing a Colovian Fur Helm who was looking pretty foolish.

Right as he reached the island, his water walking spell died and he stepped onto the island. The Khajiit must've been M'Aiq.

"Greetings!" the cat said as the Imperial approached. "M'Aiq knows many things. Some of it verified by actual facts!"

Resisting the urge to smile, the Imperial produced the letter. "I have something for you."

"You have something for _me_?" Excitement was in the Khajiit's voice.

"Yes, a letter." The exchange was mad and M'Aiq pulled out a pair of reading glasses.

"Thank you," he said. "I'd been expecting this for awhile, been some time since the last one came. I was starting to think they didn't trust me."

Cavortius shrugged. "Seems they still do."

One spell he had learned early on was Divine Intervention, which had gotten him out of a few tight spots. Recalling the words for the spell, he closed his eyes, said the words, and disappeared in a blinding flash.

As his body felt as though it were being pieced back together, he opened his eyes and found himself standing under a grey stone arch. A flag rippled in the wind nearby and the characters spelled "Gnisis."

Cavortius pulled out his map and found that he was in northwestern Vvardenfell. But even from this distance, he could hear the sounds of a Silt Strider calling out, and he followed the source of the noises until he reached the port.

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Upon returning to the bottom of the Demnevanni Manor, Thuvien seemed to be cursing at something behind the altar.

"Blasted ring! Always falling off while I'm preparing a corpse--"

The Imperial loudly cleared his throat and Thuvien whirled around. "You there! Come over here and find my ring in this thing's intestines."

"I delivered the letter," the Imperial said, approaching the altar and spying a ring on it. "Found your ring."

Demnevanni walked toward the altar and took the ring from Cavortius, placing it on his left ring finger. "Thanks. I hate when I lose this damned thing. I always forget where I put it. And good job on the delivery. It will keep our enemies lost and confused."

The Dunmer began to search beneath the altar and placed a purple object with a few protrusions on top, followed by two scrolls.

"Cavortius, are you familiar with interrogating the dead?" When Pelelius shook his head, Thuvien continued. "By subjecting trapped souls to a lengthy ritual, we are able to force knowledge from them. Often we learn nothing of interest. Sometimes, however, we learn a great deal. Often enough, we learn things of interest that we engage in these interrogations regularly."

Thuvien pointed to the scrolls and purple object, which Cavortius realized was a Greater Soul Gem.

"Take the soul gem and scrolls of Fphyggi's Gem-Feeder. Use them to trap the soul of an ancestor ghost and return it to me. I care not where you find it, but don't summon it. Summoned ghosts are useless for our purposes."

Cavortius put the soul gem in his travel bag, as well as the scrolls, and left. As he emerged outside into the town, he tried to recall where the closest tomb was. It took him a few minutes, but then he remembered one being fairly close to Pelagiad.

As he left Balmora's south gate, he hoped that his luck would hold and the Legion would not catch up with him.

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Darko Valinus was about to go on duty, but Legion Commander Precarius Malo had called all the guards in for a meeting--most unusual, to say the least.

"We've just gotten word from Ebonheart that an Imperial named Cavortius Pelelius is on the run from High Rock authorities. Stop and arrest anyone who has a medium build, a height of five feet-eight inches, and wearing a black robe. As of now, we do not have a face for this man, but we aren't taking any chances. You're dismissed."

All the guards began filing out of the room--some for city patrol, others for perimeter patrol. In this case, Darko and his Nord friend Hawkeye were assigned to patrol the road that led from Seyda Neen to Fort Moonmoth. Perimeter patrol were always done in pairs because if one died or was injured, the other could go fetch help. The pair left out of Pelagiad towards Seyda Neen.

"Say, what would the chances be of us catching this Cavortius?" Hawkeye asked, scratching his thick beard.

Darko shrugged. "I doubt we will run into anyone matching his description. You know how this duty is…slow and dull."

"You have a point," the Nord conceded. "Cavortius Pelelius…you think he's related to Cunius Pelelius?"

"Who's that?" For some reason, that name sounded very familiar.

"He's a Lawman for House Hlaalu," Hawkeye continued. "Resides at the Governor's Hall in Caldera? Remember we met him once?"

"Ah, yes, him," Darko muttered, remembering the man very clearly. "If they are related, I feel sorry for Cavortius. Cunius is a real asshole."

They both barked hearty laughs. "Agreed, comrade!" Hawkeye exclaimed as Pelagiad disappeared behind them.

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As the Imperial Legion pair disappeared around the mountains, Cavortius entered the Andrano Ancestral Tomb, drawing his dwarven short-sword. He heard the pitter-patter of feet at the bottom of the stairs before him, so he approached slowly. The interior was barely lit, but enough that Night Eye wasn't required.

When he reached the bottom, Cavortius saw a dead, half-decayed body laying face down on the floor. Behind it was a patch of darkness that he couldn't see into. As he stared at the body, his attention was so focused that only the hair-curling screech of a skeleton jumping at him from the darkness brought him to reality. Thing was, the skeleton was attacking with its…fists?

_Are you serious?_ Cavortius thought as a blow hit his chest, barely hurting him. _Are you that stupid?_

With that last thought, the Imperial chopped the skeleton's head off and proceeded to a room off to his right as the boney minion collapsed. He now had the sense to cast Night-Eye, and would do so from now on no matter how lit an area may be. If something larger and stronger had attacked him, he'd be dead. When he opened the door, a spectral form at the end of the hallway began flying toward him at a very fast pace, howling a demonic scream. This caused the young man to slam the door shut--mainly out of being startled, and also to prepare himself.

He pulled out one of the scrolls Demnevanni had given him, looked it over, and hoped he read the scripture right.

With the ancestor ghost howling on the other side of the door, Pelelius took a deep breath and kicked in the door with all his strength, which had actually pushed the ghost back a little. This provided him enough time to shout the words on the scroll, and drop to his back as the scroll disappeared. The ghost flew over his body, slashing at him and leaving a gash on his left shoulder.

How the undead could cause harm to him, he didn't know, but he ignored the pain. Cavortius kip-upped to his feet and spun on his heel, slashing at the ghost, but it dodged the strike as well as the next few blows. Finally, though, one solid blow sent the ghost reeling into a pile of ectoplasm and the Imperial felt the soul gem shake in his bag--the soul was trapped,

Collapsing against a nearby wall, Cavortius opened a healing potion and dribbled it on his wound. He groaned, for it stung really bad, but he could feel the blood starting to clot. After a few more minutes of rest, he got to his feet.

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"So when it's all said and done, a cliff racer swoops by and shits all over him!"

Darko was nearly dying from laughter from Hawkeye's story. He had to give the blonde Nord credit: he could _tell _a story. It wasn't just the words, but the way he told it and the gestures he made. This was being told to him on the return trip from Seyda Neen.

"Let's sit down for a bit," Darko said, as they approached the cowl of the Andrano Tomb and sat down against a rock. "I'll tell you, Hawkeye, you tell a great--"

A rattling noise was coming from the tomb's door and the pair immediately stood. _What in Oblivion is it? _Hawkeye thought. What greeted them was most unexpected.

A man, an Imperial at first glance, walked out of the tomb cloaked in a black robe with the hood up and carrying a sack over his shoulder. The Imperial stopped in his tracks and stared at Valinus and Hawkeye, who also stared back in a disbelieving stupor.

Finally, the Imperial Legionnaire managed to come to his senses, as did Hawkeye. "You're not in any trouble, sir, but please come with us back to--"

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The Imperial trooper never got to finish his sentence, as Cavortius too regained his senses. He cast a small area-effect Blind spell at the two Legion soldiers, then cast a spell on himself so he could run really fast. It didn't help that he couldn't go around the pair (there was very little room to maneuver), so he barreled between them and knocked them to the ground. The element of surprise had worked for him.

_It seems word has finally arrived_, Cavortius thought as he sprinted at blinding speed down the road toward Balmora. _This adds a whole new spin to things._

But now, he was also a fugitive, for he had just assaulted two Imperial soldiers _and_ resisted arrest. Things weren't looking so good. He would have to be more vigilant from this point forward…and a wardrobe change would also take place.

With any luck, only the Imperial forts and settlements would know of his presence and it would take time before the Dunmer towns caught wind. It was the best he could hope for.


	4. Dwarven Bone

-1The Illuminated Order

Chapter 3 - Dwarven Bone

Just as Cavortius had predicted, it seemed that the Hlaalu guards in Balmora hadn't been alerted to his presence yet. That could change any time, though, so the Imperial wasted no time getting to Demnevanni Manor.

When he told Thuvien what had happened, the Dark Elf frowned. "This is most disturbing news," he said, pacing back and forth while rubbing his chin.

"How do you think I feel?" Cavortius asked rhetorically. "I'm surprised they caught up with me so quickly. They don't know my face--well, they do now--but it must've been the robe. I haven't changed out of it since my escape."

A few seconds later, Demnevanni tossed a folded up robe and an enchanted belt to the Imperial. "Then change into this. It's one of mine, so it might be a little big, but the belt will help with that."

"What does it do?" Pelelius inquired as he turned the belt over in his hands.

"It's called Soul's Cord. A little present for trapping that soul," Thuvien replied. "You can summon an ancestral ghost to fight for you for two minutes."

Cavortius smiled. "Excellent."

He peeled off his black robe, revealing a semi-muscular body, and slipped on the Dunmer's robe (which turned out to be dark blue). The robe _was_ a little big but fastening Soul's Cord around his waist helped some.

"Thank you, Thuvien."

The Dark Elf flicked his hand as though to indicate that it wasn't a big deal. "You've been a tremendous help in my research, so it's only fair to repay in kind. But, tell me, have you learned anything new?"

The Imperial nodded. "The fact that the dead can be interrogated for knowledge is new to me, and it sounds extremely intriguing."

"The process is fascinating, to say the least. You will learn how to do it yourself, but not yet. It will all be in due time, friend. For now, though, I have an important task for you."

Thuvien gestured to the table in the back, and once both men were seated, the Dunmer folded his hands together.

"A serious necromancer," Demnevanni began, "can converse with the spirits of the dead even without the soul of the dead…but only if he has a bone belonging to the deceased.

"This had made it impossible to summon a dwarves spirit, as they seemingly did not leave their remains behind."

Thuvien reached for a bottle of cheap liquor out of sight and took a few pulls before continuing. "Impossible, that is, until now."

"I assume the Order has found a dwarven bone?" Cavortius asked.

"Indeed," Demnevanni replied, nodding. "We recently questioned the spirit of a dead adventurer, who was claiming to have seen an old bone somewhere in the Dwemer ruin of Aleft, which is south of Gnaar Mok, across the body of water south from the town on a narrow spur of land.

He paused to take a few more sips of his liquor. "We need you to go to Aleft and retrieve this bone. The best way to reach Gnaar Mok while avoiding Imperial settlements is taking the Strider to Vivec, then a boat to Hla Oad, then from there to Gnaar Mok. Do not come back until you get the bone."

"Should I tell you of any more run-ins that may occur?" the Imperial inquired, though he hoped there wouldn't be another run-in.

"Yes, please do. And remember…if the Order feels that you're a liability, it won't hesitate to take you out. Understood?"

"Crystal." He understood perfectly, which is why he wasn't going to screw up.

Cavortius was about to take his leave, but Thuvien lightly tugged his sleeve. "As a word of advice, I suggest buying a helm or something similar to cover your face. I've learned that what the enemy can't see won't help them."

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Hawkeye had known going into the Legion Commander's office with Darko would be a bad idea. True, the Nord was mad that he had been bested so easily, but he knew another time would come.

_Besides,_ he thought,_ mages are cowardly. They can't fight up close and personal._

Darko, on the other hand, had taken it personal and had gone straight to Commander Malo's office to request a leave of absence for himself and Hawkeye.

"Fort Pelagiad needs every Legionnaire it can get," Malo had said. "Who knows if an uprising may occur?"

"We're the only ones who've seen his face," Darko had replied. "Plus, you know our records…we get the job done."

On and on it had went until finally Precarius relented and gave Darko what he wanted. It may have been against his better judgment, but the Imperial had a point about knowing Cavortius by sight. Malo was grateful that Hawkeye was paired with him, for the Nord had experience (which was also the other reason why Precarius gave them their leave).

He just hoped that Darko came back because, despite his youth and ego, the young man had potential and just needed some fine-tuning. To waste such potential would be harmful to the Legion.

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Cunius Pelelius was sitting comfortably in front of the fireplace in his room at the top of the Governor's Hall in Caldera. The fire reflected off his gold-rimmed reading glasses as he read the latest bulletins out of Ebonheart.

One item in particular had caught his attention, however.

_So, little brother_, Cunius thought. _Been keeping secrets from the family, have you?_

No matter. His little brother had…issues that needed to be dealt with. The Morag Tong would handle this little wrinkle before members of his House found out and called him on it. To delay that from happening, Cunius had confiscated all the bulletins around the Hall concerning his brother and stashed them between the bed frame and his mattress.

Cunius called in his steward to make the proper arrangements, then turned back to the other reports in his hand.

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So far, Cavortius had managed to avoid Imperial forces and had made it to Gnaar Mok safely.

As he stood on the docks by the ship, the necromancer surveyed the small fishing village. Judging from his map, he was in the Bitter Coast region and something about this town gave him a really bad vibe.

Cavortius looked southeast toward the horizon and could just barely make out a pointed tower sticking up into the sky. He quietly invoked his water walking spell, touched a foot to the water, and then made his way across the water to what could only be Aleft.

By the time he reached the island, he too hated cliff racers. Three had attacked him _at once_, and even though a single lightning bolt had taken them all out, he just…didn't like them and they annoyed him greatly.

Cavortius reached the island where Aleft was situated, the ancient mysterious architecture of the Dwemer gracing the skyline. It didn't take long to find the door, which opened outward horizontally. The sun was just beginning to set as he entered the ruins.

Inside he was faced with a narrow, dimly lit corridor with stairs leading down that probably hadn't been walked through in quite some time. Yet when Cavortius heard the sounds of steam valves and gears clanking off, in the distance, he realized he was in a mechanical tomb--as though the Dwemer had stepped out and never came back.

At the sound of rapid clinking down the corridor, the Imperial promptly drew his dwarven short-sword and proceeded quietly down the hall while also casting Night-Eye.

The clinking noises he heard turned out to be a mechanical guardian that resembled a spider. He was in a large rectangular room with two tables at each end of the room. Shelves and barrels were littered throughout the room.

Cavortius hid back around the corner as the centurion spider made its way toward the wall that connected to the corner. He wanted the element of surprise, but somehow he had missed one thing.

In the closest corner of the room the Imperial had noticed a ball that was about as high as his thighs, but thought it was just a decoration. Not so, for it was now a strange construct as tall as he was with a strange prime ape-esque face, shield, and a mean fist that knocked the wind out of him and sent him sprawling.

The Imperial, now on his butt, chopped at this new threat twice, then scooted back down the corridor, casting shock magicka until the creature slumped over its sphere.

_Dwemer constructs_, he thought as he walked back into the room. For some reason, he had expected smugglers, but this wasn't the case. The spider from earlier was now at his feet, so he gave it a good kick--

--which wasn't the best idea because he hurt his foot, angered the metal spider, and took one of its blows all at once. Two downward strikes cleaved it in half, though, and Cavortius spied a way out of the room: a frame against the same wall where the first corridor was. Approaching it revealed another set of stairs.

_Why are there so many stairs everywhere I go?_ Pelelius randomly thought.

On the second floor, Cavortius dispatched another spherical guardian with relative ease but encountered a new enemy: a specter-like form with a pointy beard and hat decided to cast spells at him. With a few strikes from his sword and a few spells, the dwarven ghost collapsed into ectoplasm.

But after checking near the body's pile of ghostly ashes, Cavortius didn't find any bones. _It better be here._

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Eno Hlaalu sat at his desk as he filed through the latest contracts. The old Dark Elf was very careful in his selection of contracts--he had been the Morag Tong's Grandmaster for fifty years and he hadn't got there by being careless or stupid.

Contracts were classified on a few aspects which included threat level, location, and what the mark had done to warrant a writ. House Writs were special contracts that came from a Great House client to take out a member of another Great House. The Telvanni had been banned for obvious reasons, so that left Hlaalu, Redoran, Dres, and Indoril.

Out of the four, Eno was always reluctant to grant Hlaalu writs. Their renowned corruption and power games were never good reasons for the Tong's services. But this paper before him came from Cunius Pelelius, a Lawman in House Hlaalu who wanted his brother Cavortius dead on charges of necromancy.

_Even if he served Mannimarco,_ Eno thought_, we need hard evidence._

Plus, Cunius seemed as though he didn't much care for his brother…the Tong rarely performed writs against family members that were ordered by a relative. Eno put the paper in the 'reject' pile and continued reading the others he had been given.

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After taking down two more spider guardians, Cavortius came to a short set of stairs leading into a small room. He turned right and at the end of a small hall was a bed frame against the wall.

And there, sitting under the frame, was a medium-sized white bone. Excited, the Imperial closed the distance and knew it was the bone; he put it deep in his travel bag and made his way back out of Aleft.

Upon emerging from the ancient Dwemer ruin, the sun had completely gone down and the sounds of bugs chirping were heavily noticeable. Cavortius walked around the side of Aleft, invoked his water walking spell, and began to jog across the water to Gnaar Mok. All around him, the swamps seemed to come alive with the incessant chirping of the bugs and mud crabs (a drastic difference compared to what he heard during the day).

As he reached the dock and gave the shipmaster the required drakes for passage to Hla Oad, he realized that after staring out at the swamps, he couldn't sleep. Normally, he'd be out almost instantly from combat or from casting large doses of magicka. That latter act had to be brought under control, he knew, for a real mage or necromancer didn't get tired. Then again, Cavortius was still a young man learning the arts of magic, so with time he would be able to combat the exhaustion.

But Cavortius was left with a haunting sense that things wouldn't be getting easier any time soon--those two guards he had assaulted would most likely be searching for him themselves. He knew this because he knew his race well--Imperials were arrogant and hated having their pride hurt, and one of the guards had been an Imperial. If he also remembered correctly, the other had been a Nord or Breton, but he couldn't be sure.

He also realized that they had been there purely by chance, possibly on patrol of some sort, and had stopped to rest by the tomb. It also meant that a bulletin, most likely from Ebonheart, had been sent out to every Imperial settlement with his description.

So many things were racing through his mind, but as much as he wanted to sleep, Cavortius couldn't--he was too alert and feeling paranoid.

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In order to blend in with the locals, Darko and Hawkeye had left their Imperial Legion armor in their rucksacks and donned mildly-expensive clothes. They still carried their steel broadswords on them, however, for who knows what else would occur.

The pair had rented rooms at the Lucky Lockup in Balmora, right at the south gate, so they could see anybody who comes through, as well as for being near the Silt Strider. Commander Malo had told them their orders: find evidence of wrongdoing by Cavortius, capture him, or failing that execute him in the name of Imperial justice.

Quietly, the pair had split up throughout the massive Dunmer town and discreetly made inquiries about their mark. Every hour, they met up on the roof of the Lucky Lockup to discuss their findings. Thus far, Darko had been unsuccessful, but Hawkeye had found something.

"The publican at the Eight Plates told me that she had a patron come in a few days ago wearing a black robe," Hawkeye said, "but she didn't remember his face. Apparently, he must've left something for her about a crazy Dark Elf, named Senzani Na, who was claiming to be a lich."

"I remember hearing about that," Darko replied, nodding. "She had one of the Hlaalu guards trail the man to a cave north of the town. But so what, the man could've been drunk."

The large bearded Nord shook his head. "This is where things get interesting. It seems our boy found a need to do a little investigating, so he went up to the cave and…well, dispatched Senzani, and brought the man's journal to the publican. One of the Legionnaires from Moonmoth confirmed it."

"So where does this leave us?"

Both men sat on the rooftop pondering this while taking sips of their ale. Finally, Darko spoke.

"From the sounds of it, our boy followed the trail this Senzani Na planned to follow. Combine this with the knowledge that he was a servant of Mannimarco and…"

Both men looked at each other at once with a small amount of fear. "We have a seriously driven man who may or may not be seeking to become a lich," Hawkeye finished.

That realization also meant that they wouldn't be facing an easy opponent. They had to be sneaky in their investigation less they run the risk of being caught. Hawkeye and Darko Valinus decided to call it a night and headed down the stairs nearby to head for their rooms. As Hawkeye entered and closed the door, a Silt Strider pulled up to the landing.

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The same day Cunius had his request sent to the Morag Tong, he found a reply sitting on his nightstand. Crawling into bed and slipping on his reading glasses, he tore the letter open and removed its contents.

"_Cunius--_

_I regret to inform you that your request for the swift execution of your brother Cavortius has been rejected. The Tong operates off of a strict code, and proof of wrongdoing is part of that code. As there is no evidence to support the charges you bring, we cannot print up a writ of execution. Plus, rarely does the Tong kill a relative because another wishes it so. Even _if_ he is a necromancer, there is nothing to prove otherwise._

_Also, you are but a simple Lawman of House Hlaalu. Don't you have more important duties to attend to? Surely your House needs you in these troubling times that Vvardenfell is experiencing._

_I hope you understand my reasons for turning down your request. It is in the interest of business, and is nothing personal against you or your House. If you have any questions in regards to the Morag Tong or the nature of this letter, please contact the guildhall in Balmora._

_Regards,_

_Eno Hlaalu, _

_Grandmaster of the Morag Tong"_

Cunius understood perfectly, and it galled him to no end. He was angry that his time had been wasted, and even more so that Eno had _insulted him_ on top of it!

_No matter_, the Imperial Lawman thought as he threw the letter across the room and calmly placed his glasses on the nightstand. _I'll show them I'm not to be trifled with._

As he blew out the candle next to his bed, Cunius decided he would contact the Dark Brotherhood in the morning. It would be extremely risky and he was risking his career, but he felt it was necessary. Two contracts would be made: one for his brother and one for Eno Hlaalu.

Yet little did he know that this decision--made out of anger and stemming from the fact this his ego was hurt (and rather then being made from a calm state of mind)--would set forth a series of events that he could not reverse once the decision had been put in motion.


	5. An Old Haunt

-1The Illuminated Order

Chapter 4 - An Old Haunt

As soon as he entered Demnevanni Manor, Cavortius locked the front door and moved the dresser in front of the door. It was paranoia talking, but it had its place. When he trotted down all the stairs, and the old Dark Elf caught sight of him, he spoke.

"You may be wondering why go to all the trouble to acquire a dwarven bone," he began in his dusty voice, "when there are, however rarely, dwemer ghosts to be found who could be questioned. The truth is, we've tried. For some reason, our usual techniques of extracting information from a spirit are inadequate to the task. Damned if we know why."

The Imperial wasn't sure if Thuvien had been speaking to him or not, but he disregarded it as the ramblings of an old man. He reached into his rucksack and pulled out the dwemer bone, setting it upon the altar. The Dunmer immediately dropped what he was doing to inspect the bone.

"Remarkable!" he exclaimed, turning it over in his hands to admire it. "If you only knew how long we've been looking for one of these…. The Order is pleased with the way you've been performing tasks. The time has come to promote you. You are now an Instrument of Devious Gambits."

_Instrument of Devious Gambits,_ Cavortius thought with a smile. _I like the sound of that._

"Thank you, Thuvien. It is an honor to serve the Order."

"Indeed, as it has been for all. I have one more task for you, then I will teach you how to interrogate spirits. Come sit down with me, please."

The two men silently walked toward the table, which had become the regular method of assigning a task to the Imperial. For some odd reason, Pelelius recalled a strange, fleeting expression that had appeared on Demnevanni's face when he had first mentioned Scourge Barrow. His assumption would soon prove prophetic.

"We need you to go back to Scourge Barrow," the Dark Elf stated.

Immediately, a flood of emotional memories rushed to him in droves, causing him to close his eyes. The day was very clear…they had all been sitting around a campfire, Mannimarco included, and they had been discussing something about a zombie, and then all Oblivion broke loose. Guards rushed the place, arrows flew through the air, and a glorious battle took place. Somehow in the confusion he managed to slip out, and for a time didn't realize that Demnevanni was trying to get his attention.

"What?" Cavortius said, startled. "Oh…I'm sorry. I was…recalling the memories."

Thuvien nodded. "Understandable. I'm sure you already know the specifics, but I've been tasked to present this in a formal way." The Dark Elf cleared his throat noisily a few times, then slid an amulet of some sort across the table.

"Scourge Barrow was the lair of Mannimarco, the King of Worms. Parts of it had collapsed during the battles fought during the Second Numidium, as well as most recently when it was raided by the forces of Daggerfall, thus keeping some of its secrets."

It was strange but the King of Worms had mentioned passages in the ruins that even he couldn't get past, though it was clear he had once used them previously.

"But we have a way to uncover those secrets, more, to _re_cover those secrets. We found the corpse of one of the King of Worms' agents, upon which was a teleportation amulet."

Thuvien gestured to the amulet in Cavortius' hands, and the Imperial remembered that he had not yet earned his place in order to acquire such an amulet.

"These amulets," Demnevanni continued dryly, "allow instantaneous travel to Scourge Barrow, all the way in Daggerfall. We've altered the enchantment on this one a bit, to enable it to also teleport back to this Manor.

"Be warned, as you may know: Scourge Barrow collapsed. It's possibly entirely filled with rock, in which case teleporting into it will likely prove instantly fatal." The look of fear on the Imperial's face was very visible, so Thuvien tried to soothe his mind. "The risk is great, but the potential rewards are worth it. Return when you have found something of use. Preferably something dead."

Saying no more words, the Dunmer stood and began to mess with the same skeletal corpse he'd been working on since finding the Manor. Cavortius just sat at his end of the table, turning the amulet over in his hands. The memories were still crystal-clear, and the thought of teleporting into a rock wasn't all that--

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_What the fuck just happened?!_ his mind screamed. The answer to that question wasn't ready to answer itself, as he now found himself a dimly-lit room filled with red lights, fallen rocks, sarcophagi, and…well, a few ancestor ghosts and zombies who weren't too happy to see him.

Cavortius drew his dwarven short-sword, and charged at the undead wave coming at him. He cut through the flesh of one of the zombies, causing it to stumble out of his way, but into another one. This one took a bite out of his arm, which burned like a thousand tiny knives were sticking him, and he cursed it. He elbowed it in the face, then cut off both of its legs, leaving it for dead.

He turned his attention to the ancestor ghosts, who tried to fling spells at him, but he rolled out of the way from all that were cast and cut them both down with downward and sideways strikes of his short-sword. Thinking all was said and done, he proceeded to walk to the front of the room, which contained a throne of sorts, but he was wrong. The zombie who's legs he had removed earlier clawed deep into his leg, and he screamed in pain. He was thankful he was quick on his feet, and a swift decapitation and a stab in the back occurred, followed by the downing of a restorative potion.

Feeling the effects of the potion taking hold, Cavortius had a moment to catch his breath. Looking around he knew this to be the infamous "Worm Throne", where Mannimarco made many of his decisions when he wasn't personally directing the affairs of his cult. The throne itself was at the front of the room. No one but the King of Worms himself and his most loyal servants were allowed in here. It had been described as a gothic, grotesque display of rotting bones adorned with the most precious and rarest metals in all of Tamriel. The tapestries were rumored to have been made from human flesh, either from the King's victims or treacherous members. The Imperial felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of such a thing, knowing full well that if the Necromancers ever caught up to him, he was sure to meet a similar fate.

Then he realized that he must've been fumbling with the teleportation amulet and accidentally activated it. Cavortius, feeling more at ease now that he had figured that out, began to search the dimly lit Worm Throne. The passage behind him was sealed off by fallen rocks, a testament to the fact that Daggerfall forces still raided the place occasionally.

Thuvien had said to bring back anything that would be useful for his research, but after searching every sarcophagi in the room as well as the back of the throne, he was ready to give up when he spied something similar to a corpse trapped under a large boulder. It was somewhat hidden behind an alcove of other boulders on the west side of the room. As he approached, Cavortius' eyes widened, and his nose was assaulted by the miasma of smells.

"No…could this be…it can't be…" he muttered with disbelief, crouching next to the corpse to get a better look at it.

The corpse was in fact a large skeleton, larger than any human skeleton. Yet from having worked here in Scourge Barrow before, he knew just from instinct that this was what he had came for. Inside the corpse's rib cage was a piece of paper. Now curious, Pelelius delicately reached into the skeleton's body and grabbed the corner of the paper, shaking it off to get rid of the maggots that were crawling around on it. Setting this aside, he knew that this large skeleton would be of interest to Demnevanni, so he carefully separated the head from the neck with his sword, and put the large skull in his travel bag.

Casting Night-Eye so he could study the paper better, Cavortius picked up the parchment and began to read…with skepticism, of course, because every piece of paper he had picked up so far had brought up startling revelations to him.

"_Most remarkable of all my agents,_

_Does this messenger come as something of a surprise to you? No matter. You have served me well and I do not forget your service. As I scribe this note I sit in my hall under Scourge Barrow, undergoing final preparations now that you have delivered the Totem to me. Soon, very soon indeed, you shall be departing on your way to the harridan Nulfaga's holding, from which she will transport you to the Aetherial Void. Though the obstacles you shall face one there are not entirely unknown to me I have every confidence in your inevitable success._

_I have instructed this zombie of mine to remain within Scourge Barrow for a span of days immediately after the second coming of Numidium. It is my hope that this will keep it from difficulties in the surface world in the tumultuous days to come. Within a week, it should be safe for it to journey to the surface and make it's way to you, bearing this final missive as well as your reward."_

Cavortius' eyes narrowed as he stared at the note. Something wasn't adding up…this zombie had been down here in the Worm Throne since the end of the second coming of Numidium…but yet, the passage had been sealed off by Imperial forces. Or was he, in fact, wrong in what he knew? Maybe the Worm Throne had been collapsed from the start, and Mannimarco was cable of teleporting into the room on a whim…to work on his zombie minion, which had indeed confirmed his initial suspicions.

"_The zombie brings you my staff, an item of considerable enchantment. Its properties are rather unique, and as you can see from examining it, not without price. With the proper precautions it is a powerful tool, and one I feel you are suited to take in hand. Take this, my final gift to you. You have well earned it._

_I do not know precisely what awaits me from this point forward. I may be able to contact you again. I may not. If not, know that you have performed well for me, and remain the most favored agent of,_

_Mannimarco,_

_King of Worms"_

A chill shot up the Imperial's spine as his head whipped around back to the throne room. He didn't know why he did, but something felt off--his gut told him so. When he turned back to stare at the King of Worms' throne, a long glowing staff was laying on the throne where one hadn't before.

"What in Oblivion…" he rasped. Cavortius swore he could hear a voice speaking to him, and it sounded faintly like Mannimarco. The Staff of Worms was laying right there where it clearly hadn't before. In the dim of the room, he was creeped out. The dead normally didn't scare him, but around Mannimarco, he felt the evil shimmering off of the man's body, from his soul.

"I see you…" a voice echoed quietly in the chamber. The hairs on Cavortius' arms and legs was standing on end. Slowly, he drew his dwarven short-sword with his right hand, and clutched the teleportation amulet in his left.

"I know what you've done, child," the voice said again, this time more demonic. "I will find you, hunt you, kill you, then punish you!"

As Cavortius turned around in a flash, fear coursed throughout him, and in response, he pushed on the center of the amulet. In a swirl of magicka, he was gone, but not before he had seen a larger-then-life visual of the King of Worms' face suspended up in the air behind him, laughing as he left Daggerfall's most infamous barrow.

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Cavortius slammed onto the ground, breathing heavily to the point that Thuvien thought he was hyperventilating. Alarmed, the elder Dunmer ran to his pupil's side.

"What is it, Cavortius?" Thuvien asked with concern, helping the Imperial get to his feet. "What happened?"

"I saw…him…I saw…the King…of Worms…" he breathed in between rapid breaths. "He knew, I was there. He knew!"

Thuvien, who was rarely surprised, shuddered upon hearing this news. "Hold on, let me get you to the table, and give you something to drink."

The Dark Elf helped move Cavortius to the table in the back of the room, and sat him in a chair and gave him a bottle of beer. Much again to Demnevanni's surprise, Pelelius chucked the whole thing down in one long gulp, smacking his lips multiple times.

Cavortius began to rummage through his travel pack and removed the skull. "This skull…it's the skull of a large zombie servant that Mannimarco had created after the second coming of the Numidium…but things just didn't seem right…the passage, I thought, must've been sealed off when the Daggerfall forces arrived, but…but…it just…"

Thuvien could tell that his pupil was really stressed out, for his grip around the bottle was so tight that he crushed the empty beer bottle with his bare hand, cutting it and making him bleed. "Slow down, and take a deep breath, Cavortius. Please."

The Imperial inhaled deeply, held his breath for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled. "I cut the zombie skeleton's head off, figuring it would help you. Then I noticed this--" He produced the letter he had found. "--and found out what it was.

"Only…only, it…it just didn't make sense. Why would Mannimarco have sealed off his old throne room for so long? I…I don't know why, but when I finished reading the note, I looked back at the throne room, and the Staff of Worms had appeared where it hadn't before. And then the voice…the voice of Mannimarco…it spoke to me! And when I turned around, I saw his face Thuvien! I saw him! He said he would hunt me and kill me!"

Cavortius had never been so scared in his life. Scourge Barrow had brought back so many bad memories, so many visions of the people he had killed in the name of evil…and the King of Worms had found him! Still, he thought all of this running would help…but not so. _Then again_, he assured himself, _I'm back here now, safely on Vvardenfell, on the other side of Tamriel._

After moments of silence, the old Dark Elf spoke up. "Well…Cavortius, I am really sorry for sending you back to that wretched place. Putting the needs of the Order aside, I now realize that I hadn't fully grasped how bad this place was to you, but I sent you in anyways. Even so, you brought me back the skull of one of the king's servants, and so I shall compensate in two ways. The first is another promotion…you are now an Instrument of Hidden Motives."

Thuvien Demnvanni maneuvered around to the other side of the table and sat down opposite of Pelelius, who would've normally smiled at being promoted, but was silent for the time being. The Dunmer reached into a pocket on his robe, pulled out a small flask of some sort and a scroll, and pushed the two items with his fingertips toward the Imperial.

"I need for you to deliver this flask of blood to another in the Order."

"Okay," Pelelius replied uneasily, grabbing the bottle and scroll as hesitantly as his reply had been, and put it in his rucksack. "Tell me more. Am I being transferred?"

Thuvien nodded. "Take this flask of Aundae vampire blood to another member of our Order, Decius Mus in Molag Mar. In the lower waistworks there look for a fresco. Approach the fresco while carrying the scroll I gave you, and you'll be able to enter the guildhouse there.

"Decius Mus will now take over your instruction, including your training in the summoning of spirits from bones, and I'm sure he'll have a number of tasks for you as well. Oh, and before I forget, I have something else to tell you about the amulet…"

Cavortius held up a hand, which would serve as the third surprise Thuvien received in the past five minutes. "Do I need to read this scroll? Or just have it on me?"

"It simply needs to be on your person," Demnevanni replied. "Now…after some amount of research into other amulets such as the one you posses, the Order has discovered a method of capitalizing on the enchantment used by the King of Worms to transport his servants.

"We can now encode additional locations into the amulet's mystical memory for quick transport. Speak to Decius, and any other superiors in the Order about it and they can enchant the teleport-locations of additional safe houses for you. Now get that flask of blood to Molag Mar. Good luck, and watch your back."

For several minutes, Cavortius sat in silence, picking the bits of glass out of his skin and cringing when a lance of pain would shoot through his arm. The bleeding had stopped, but he didn't bother drinking a potion. He wanted a reminder of this event, and it would remain.

"Demnevanni…how did Mannimarco see me?"

Thuvien, in turn, rubbed his chin trying to think. "Honestly, I truly do not know…it's a mystery to me…Vivec only knows how he could've done it. Be careful. And take this helmet…I managed to find one while you were gone."

The Dark Elf walked over to the altar and grabbed what looked to be an iron helmet and presented it to Cavortius, who wordlessly put it over his head. He adjusted it until he could see through the eyeholes clearly, as well as having a suitable means to breathe.

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Darko and Hawkeye were sitting atop the Lucky Lockup, making casual conversation to make passersby assume that they were just talking…which they were, but in reality, they were both scanning the southern gate of Balmora and the Silt Strider port.

It was when a figure in a dark blue robe, hood up, approached the stairs to the Silt Strider port that they both perked up to watch.

"That has to be him," Hawkeye whispered to Darko.

"What makes you think so?" Valinus whispered back.

"The way Cavortius moved…I remember it well…this guy here is moving similarly, but he must've realized that someone would be on to him, so he's either changed robes, put on a helmet to obscure his face, moved out of town, or all three. So, when one doesn't know which to do, a good Legionnaire focuses on the movements. And this guy, he looks and moves like Cavortius. Understand?"

_I'm glad I have Hawkeye to learn from, _Darko thought, smiling slightly and nodding at the Nord. The man in the dark blue robe followed the caravaner into the Silt Strider and the large bug began making its way south.

"He's either heading for Seyda Neen or Vivec," the Imperial trooper said.

"We better getting moving, then," Hawkeye said and the pair raced down the stairs into the tavern to grab their gear and begin the trek down south. At the way the Silt Strider was going, the Nord figured that he and Darko would reach Vivec before Cavortius did.


	6. Vampiric Matters

-1The Illuminated Order

Chapter 5 - Vampiric Matters

At around 11:30 A.M., Cunius Pelelius had woken up and gotten dressed. He didn't want to appear to regal, but at the same time, he had to mean business. Since travel to the mainland was quarantined due to the resurgence of the blight, the Hlaalu Lawman had to be magically transported to Mournhold, the capital of Morrowind, from Ebonheart.

The Dark Brotherhood didn't directly operate out of Vvardenfell; their only base that was close enough was in Mournhold, and he had been instructed to meet a silver-haired Dunmer with a scar running from his right eyebrow down to the corner of his mouth at The Winged Guar, the only tavern/restaurant in the city in the Godsreach district.

As he entered the pub and walked down the stairs before him, Cunius was surprised at the amount of activity. Patrons were talking, the bar tender was being kept busy, and the aroma of great cuisine was somewhere within nose-shot. It was easy to understand why his initial contact had said for the meeting to take place here: it was busy, created a lot of noise, and so prevented anyone from being overheard.

The Hlaalu Lawman knew that what he was doing was illegal, but he was so used to doing illegal things in the service of House Hlaalu that the thought didn't even occur to him. The Dark Brotherhood weren't officially sanctioned by the local government, so they were illegal in every definition of the word. Cunius had made this decision for one reason: the Brotherhood never turned down a contract. He was ignorantly unaware of the fact that the Brotherhood and the Morag Tong had a passionate hatred for each other, which would end up bringing disaster for many people.

Cunius spotted his contact near the back of the room in a corner, his back in the little crevice so he could see anything coming. He was quick, but careful, in walking to the other side of the tavern and sat down in a chair opposite of the silver-haired Dark Elf.

"I take it you're the one from Hlaalu?" the Brotherhood assassin asked quietly.

Cunius nodded. "I have a problem…two, actually. I will pay well."

The Dunmer tried not to smile. _Of course you will. You're Hlaalu, everything is money to you._

"Just so we're sure, how much?"

Cunius handed a bag containing ten-thousand drakes under the table, just in case anybody was watching. "Five thousand for each hit."

This time the assassin couldn't help being shocked. Since this man hadn't told his boss who the targets were, this much gold meant that it was someone very important. "Alright, so tell me about the targets."

"Well, one is my brother…apparently, he fled High Rock authorities when he was suspected of being tied to Mannimarco, the King of Worms. Do you know who he is?" When the Lawman got a nod, he continued. "Right. So. Bulletins were sent out to the various Imperial settlements, but, well, I just can't have the House, especially the Councilors, finding out. It could ruin my career, thus I need him killed."

"Okay," the assassin said, nodding. "And the other?"

Cunius casually looked around over his shoulder just to be sure that there weren't any eavesdroppers, and then looked the Dunmer directly in the eyes. "I took my request to the Morag Tong, but they turned me down, citing that they don't kill family members for relatives without probable cause. Not only that, but Eno Hlaalu felt a need to insult me and my House on top of that. For that, he must die."

The Brotherhood agent's eyes widened ever so slightly, but he couldn't help but feel weary. Most likely, his boss was going to have to make a dicey decision on whether to pursue Eno or not, but taking on this man's brother also wouldn't be easy. If the Lawman's sibling was possibly a necromancer, it could cause a few problems…yet it was nothing a standard Murderer couldn't handle.

After Pelelius provided a few more details on his brother, including his name and his stated intention of exploring the southern parts of Vvardenfell, the two men shook hands and Cunius left as quick as he had came. He headed back toward the Royal Palace, where the Argonian Effe-Tei would transport him via magic back to Ebonheart. With this decision, the wood had been tossed into the fire and would only get bigger as the days passed on.

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Unaware of the arrangements being made to terminate him, Cavortius finally reached Molag Mar by noon, having transferred to Vivec from Balmora and taking the Silt Strider to Molag Mar. When he stepped off the giant bug onto the platform, he was underneath a covered pavilion. He proceeded down a small hill to his right, then made a left towards the town.

Molag Mar could only be described as a missing canton of Vivec--architecturally, it looked exactly like one of the cantons, but the domed red roof seemed to be missing. Another thing that stuck out to the Imperial was the land around him--it was a deep grayish-brown color, resembling ash. This struck him as a stark contrast to the lush environments he had been accustomed to in the southwest.

Crossing the bridge leading into the canton, Cavortius walked around to the right side until he came to a covered ramp leading up to the second level and presumably the Waistworks. His insight was rewarded by the appearance of a door at the top, and he entered.

Inside was a short hall that led to a T-shaped intersection leading to the outside and before him was similar to any other canton in Vivec. _Did this used to be a canton and it just floated away?_ he wondered absently. Shrugging, he walked into the larger part and looked over the square hole before him, which actually revealed what was on the floor below--a table and plants on one side…and a fresco against another wall.

Seeing that nobody was nearby, Cavortius vaulted over the ledge and landed in the middle between the table and the fresco. It was macabre, to say the least, with a large black circle in the upper right corner. He could feel a piece of paper shuffling about in his rucksack--it was the scroll that Demnevanni had given him. The next thing he knew the Imperial was transported…somewhere, for lack of a better term. As he landed inside of a small hallway, he thought he heard the crackling of thunder. It was a strange sensation and feeling.

The room was bathed in an eerie red glow and a figure up ahead was pacing about.

"Hello?" Cavortius called, walking into the room.

When he closed the distance with the man, he spun around and gripped Pelelius' hand and shook it rapidly…smiling in a most unorthodox way; two of his teeth were fangs.

His look of panic must've been clear on his face, for it prompted the man to speak. "Do not worry, child. I'm not going to bite you. I am Decius Mus, and I presume Thuvien has sent you here."

Decius was an Imperial, probably about thirty years older than Cavortius, and had his purple-blackish hair tied into a ponytail. The man's eyes were almost pure white, but upon closer examination he could see the pupils. The fangs looked sharp and mean, ready to tear through an unfortunate soul's neck.

Cavortius nodded, relief swarming over him. He thought it had once again been a trap, but he had been proved wrong. "Yes…Cavortius Pelelius, Instrument of Hidden Motives."

"Yes, Thuvien has told me all about you, but…um, I think there's something I need?" The Imperial pointed to his fangs.

Wordlessly, Cavortius reached through his travel bag searching for the flask and when he finally found it, tossed it to Decius. The Imperial vampire caught it with lightning speed, opening the top and sniffing the aroma.

"A sample of blood from an elder Aundae, eh?" he asked, more to himself then anything. "Yes, this will prove most useful in my research."

He walked over to a bookcase, which proved to be against the wall behind him, and placed it on a middle shelf next to some sort of key. On the very bottom shelf was a…skeleton, which made Cavortius raise an eyebrow. Against the west wall was a desk and a chair, and in the corner was a gigantic bust of a mummified head. In front of him were two waterspouts catching water presumably from the Underworks. Two screens off to his right disguised a barely-concealed stone coffin.

_This is truly the home of a vampire, _the Imperial thought.

"You'll be a very useful agent to me," Decius Mus said. "As you can imagine, I find interacting with most of the locals somewhat…difficult. You'll be able to deal with those issues on my behalf. Which reminds me…I believe you have one of the King of Worms' teleportation amulets."

Cavortius nodded, and unfastened the amulet from his neck, which he had placed around his neck on the journey to Molag Mar. The vampire put the amulet in his left hand, chanted a few words, then a flash of magicka transferred to the talisman when he put his fingertips on it. The ritual finished, he handed it back to Pelelius, who secured it around his neck.

"I've upgraded the amulet to place you right outside the hall here," Decius stated, "but, please, do remember to knock. But with this in mind, I'm going to teach you a few things."

Over the course of an hour, Decius taught Cavortius a few new spells, such as Almsivi Intervention, which he had been desperately seeking since the Imperials had traced him here. Then, after that, he was taught how to summon dead spirits from bones of the person in question, which involved learning a new, modified soul trap spell created by the Order that worked in much the same way as a regular soul trap spell did, but instead of casting it on a live target and capturing the soul in a soul gem, it was a touch spell applied to a critical bone on the body and then the spirit came to life before his eyes.

When the training was complete, Cavortius was sweating from trying to learn the spells and not having much success. Decius shrugged, saying, "It takes some practice at first, but eventually you'll get the hang of it. It's very useful."

The two men stood in silence for several seconds, staring at each other, until Pelelius broke the silence.

"Has, uh, Thuvien told you of my situation?" he asked.

Decius licked his lips and nodded. "Yes, and rest assured, you are on the southeastern coast of Vvardenfell--it will take time for news to arrive in these Dunmer settlements. For right now, you're safe. Speaking of which, I have a mission for you.

"I have heard of the existence of a new, so-called vampiric threat. Such as I am, I must learn more."

"Okay," Cavortius said wearily, hoping that he wouldn't be sent into the vicinity of _hostile_ vampires. Being around a docile one was unnerving enough.

"I've learned that the vampire hunter Ano Vando recently wrote the High Fane of the Temple with news of what he called a 'new vampiric threat'. The Temple brushed him off. They probably had their reasons, but Vando is an expert on vampires."

Mus walked over to the shelf where he put the vial of Aundae blood and held the bottle up to his lips, sticking out an elongated tongue, trying not to squeal from anticipation of the blood dripping onto his tongue. When it finally did, he couldn't resist smacking his lips in delight and wasn't the least bit mindful of the weird look he was getting from his pupil.

"So anyways," Decius said, wiping blood from the corners of his mouth and replacing the bottle, "I want you to acquire his notes from his room in Ald'ruhn. He's staying at a hotel called the Ald Skar Inn. His room is the only one with a door, that much I know. Oh, and…they might be hidden. Ano doesn't like leaving his precious things in the open."

Cavortius nodded and got the indication of a dismissal. He turned his back on Decius, focusing his mind on the words for Almsivi Intervention. After failing a few times, he finally got it and was hoping he would end up in Ald'ruhn, but was instead on the very top level of Molag Mar. Recovering from the sensation of being pieced together, he checked his bearings and determined the Silt Strider was to his right.

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Unbeknownst to Cavortius' quick departure, Darko Valinus and Hawkeye landed at the docks in a boat on the other side of Molag Mar. When they had reached Vivec in pursuit of Cavortius, the caravanner had been cooperative and told the pair of his fare, so they took the boat at the nearby dock.

"Okay, so…we got a lead," Darko said as they walked onto the canton. "If he's escaped here, the chances of us finding him tip towards us."

"Agreed," the Nord replied. "Plus, there aren't many places where he can hide. The only trouble will be if we confront him, and he escapes into surrounding region. _That_ could be a problem, but I doubt that will happen."

As they walked up the ramp leading to the Waistworks, both men's stomachs growled simultaneously, which prompted a glance at each other.

"Let's get some food and a drink," Hawkeye said, and Darko nodded his agreement. One could never be too hungry or too thirsty.

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As the sun was beginning to set outside, a fierce Blight Storm began raging, and Cavortius had managed to find the Ald Skar Inn right as the storm was beginning.

At the time, he didn't even realize how perfect his timing was. The journey to Ald'ruhn required him to transfer to the Hlaalu city of Suran, then to Balmora, before finally reaching the heart of Redoran power in Vvardenfell. With his arrival, the sun would be setting and Ano Vando would go out and hunt creatures of the night.

All of this came to mind as he sat on the lower floor of the inn, ostensibly reading a book but in reality watching the room with the only door on it. Occasionally, people wandered down the stairs, but for the most part he was alone. With the hood on his robe up and the iron helmet Thuvien had supplied fitted securely over his head, no one could identify him.

His patience was rewarded when a Dark Elf clad in iron armor, minus the helmet, with a scar running across the right side of his face and a mohawk hair style walked out of the room and marched up the stairs. Just from that brief glance, the Imperial could tell that Ano was not one to tussle with. With a start, he realized that the Dunmer hadn't locked the door to his room.

_Good,_ he thought with a small smile. _No Alteration magic required._

Glancing about to make sure he was alone, he quickly crossed the hall to the closed door, opened it, and then morphed inside as though he weren't there. Unlike the vampire hunter, Cavortius locked the door and began to tear the room apart. He searched in the cupboard, under it, around it, on top of it, under the bed, but he didn't want to touch the bed for fear of Ano learning that someone had been in his room.

Finally, Cavortius couldn't stand it anymore and he lifted the pillow up and…there they were, innocently sitting there. He slapped his forehead, wishing he had looked sooner. After stuffing the journal into his travel bag, the Imperial touched the amulet around his neck, spoke its destination quietly and he was gone in a flash of light.


	7. Confrontation

-1_Author's Note: I apologize for the delay everybody. I've been busy with school, college courses, music, and essay writing. Thank you all for being patient. Here's the latest._

The Illuminated Order

Chapter 6 - Confrontation

_Wow…this is something new,_ the silver-haired Dark Elf thought. _Someone directly offended by Eno…coming to the Brotherhood for assistance._

These thoughts rattled around in the courier's head as he entered Dandras Vules' chamber at the rear of Moril Manor. The Dark Brotherhood's base of operations was underneath the Great Bazaar district, in the ruins of Old Mournhold, so as to avoid scrutiny from prying eyes above ground. Having the headquarters on the mainland was smarter anyways--Vvardenfell was too small for such a large scale organization.

"Brother Vules," the courier said to another Dunmer at a reading desk. "I come bearing the result of our meeting with the Hlaalu Imperial."

Dandras, clad in the standard Dark Brotherhood armor and long silver-blackish hair extending down to his neck, looked up from the report he was reading from a contact in Firewatch. The courier, with the bag of drakes jingling on his waist, walked over to the desk and pulled up a chair to sit down.

"Execellent," Vules replied. "So, who are the targets we are to eliminate?"

The silver-haired Dunmer unclipped the bag from his waist and put it on the desk, and began his official spiel. "Five thousand septims for each hit…one on Cavortius Pelelius, the Hlaalu's brother who apparently fled High Rock due to being tied with Mannimarco. He wants his brother killed so his name isn't besmirched. The other…Eno Hlaalu, Grandmaster of the Morag Tong. When the Imperial's initial offer to the Tong was rejected, Cunius felt insulted and angered."

A grin formed on the aged Dark Brother's lips. "No surprise…Eno has always been a rude one…and in need of some manners. Though I'm a bit disappointed with the amount offered…I'd expect at least five thousand more."

"But don't we have some in the reserves?"

Vules scratched his chin. "I think so…but double check."

"Who should be the one to take out Cavortius?"

The Dark Brother smiled. "I know just the person…as for Eno…one assassin won't be enough. We'll need…more. Tell Irena that we have a special task for her. I'll send out a notification to our cell on Vvardenfell in regards to the Tong."

The courier nodded, and walked off in the opposite direction of Dandras' desk as the elder Dunmer turned back to his work and smiled. _Even if we fail, the Night Mother will prove that we, the Brotherhood, can still come within your jaws, Eno._

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"Once more you greet my humble sanctuary with your august personage," Decius Mus said warmly moments after Cavortius teleported into the room. "Have you then acquired the information on that new vampiric threat?"

The Imperial necromancer nodded, pulling the leather-bound book from his travel bag and passed it over to the vampire. Decius briefly skimmed through the book, and let out a roaring, demonic yet still charitable laugh, tossing the book into one of the waterspouts behind him.

"What a stupid Mer he is, thinking that the Blight caters to us creatures of the night! Red Mountain caters to no one…only Dagoth."

A quizzical look appeared on Cavortius' face, unsure of what he just heard, but most likely it had to do with the notes he had just picked up…although the mention of the word 'Dagoth' made his skin crawl.

"Excellent work, either way," Mus exclaimed. "However, I do have something of an urgent matter that has come up. Simply put…I need you to take care of a vampire hunter."

Pelelius nodded for the Imperial vampire to continue speaking. "I have learned that one of the Buoyant Armigers from the local stronghold has come to suspect my existence and is even now hunting for me."

"But, this hideout is concealed well!"

Decius held up a pale, gnarly finger as the strange Imperial grinned. "This may be so, but it's not unusual for me to hear noises outside of the fresco. For eventualities such as this, I took the precaution of setting up a series of false clues as to my location, leading to a decoy dwelling in the Underworks here."

It was then that Mus took a step closer to the necromancer…a few more steps, actually, until they were five inches from each other's face.

"You understand the Order's need for secrecy," Decius rasped hostilely, making his teeth very visible to a fearful Cavortius. "Don't fuck up. Or I'll make you my dinner. Are we clear?"

The young Imperial nodded rapidly, loving his life very much, and wanting to live long enough to see where this life of his would take him.

Decius then returned to his normal cheerful manner. "Good. You may go."

Rather then teleport to the temple outside using Almsivi Intervention, Cavortius instead exited through the door behind him and found himself standing in front of the fresco. He put the hood up on his robe and fastened the iron helmet Thuvien had given him over his head and looked for the Canalworks.

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Darko Valinus and Hawkeye, now clad in their Legion armor, emerged from The Pilgrim's Rest, a tavern inside of Molag Mar, talking to themselves quietly.

"So far, nobody has seen Cavortius or anybody matching his description," Darko said, scratching his chin.

"But we know he's here," Hawkeye interjected. "The shipmaster in Vivec told us he was heading this way, so he must still be here."

"True…but we still haven't--" Darko paused in mid sentence as they reached the center of the Waistworks and saw a hint of blue fabric disappear down underneath the walkway, seemingly running.

"That's him!" Hawkeye whispered harshly. "Hurry, before we lose him."

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Cavortius shoulder-bashed the door into the Canalworks, quickly slamming it shut with his foot and bolted down the flight of stairs three at a time. He had heard the two men's voices, and knew immediately it was the same Imperial Legionnaires he had encountered outside of Pelagiad.

_So I am being followed!_ he thought angrily. Once he hit the bottom of the stairs, he ran past a few waterspouts before noticing a trapdoor made of wood in the floor. As quickly as he could, he worked on getting the latch open and Cavortius jumped down the hole.

However, it wasn't a clean jump, because as he descended into the sewers, the left sleeve of his robe got snagged on the latch and while it closed the trapdoor, he found himself dangling in midair by his sleeve in near-darkness. Frantically trying to pull himself loose, Cavortius cast Night-Eye and the whole area became better-lit. He then reached for his dwarven short-sword, and carefully cut the caught fabric free, and free-fell the rest of the way to the sewer floor. He grunted as he hit the ground, rolling away from the canal to avoid falling in the water.

After that, he picked up the pace and disappeared down one of the various corridors in hopes of losing his pursuers.

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"Move with caution," Darko said quietly, his sword drawn. "He may be down here somewhere."

Hawkeye was looking around the Canalworks, sticking close to his Imperial friend, his sword also out and ready to use. He spotted the trapdoor Cavortius had gone through--the piece of blue fabric was sticking out from the top. The massive Nord dislodged it from its crevice and examined it in his fingers.

"He's in the sewers," Hawkeye remarked. He signaled Darko with his free hand, and instructed him to go down the sewer via the ladder, and Hawkeye quickly followed as he closed the trapdoor.

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One thing Cavortius failed to understand as he trekked through the sewers was how some sort of rotting man was able to sneak up on him. The man's skin had long since been drained of its former pallor, but bones were sticking out at various places on its body. Cavortius had no choice but to put the creature down. It should've been easy, but he could still see the pained look on the former man's face, twisted beyond belief. It would haunt him.

Finally, the Imperial reached an rotten, wooden door in one of the corridors that was hidden from view. Cobwebs covered the door, and it looked to be very old like it was barely hanging on. It was here he would avoid the Imperial soldiers, and wait for the Buoyant Armiger to appear. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Pelelius grabbed hold of the old door's latch and opened it and stepped through.

Inside was a smallish room with a few cobwebs and two torches, one in the corner behind him and one in the opposite corner. In the center was a coffin similar in design to the one he had seen in Scourge Barrow. The Imperial was also greeted with an unexpected surprise: the Buoyant Armiger had already arrived, and was standing on the other side of the coffin.

The Buoyant Armigers, he had learned from listening to conversations, was a holy order created by the Man-God Vivec as guardians of the Ghostgate. As such, they wore the traditional Dunmer Chitin armor. The only different was that the helmet this Armiger wore was similar to a large gondola hat but it had a mask covering the Mer's face.

"Foul vampire!" the Armiger cried, the voice hoarse and dusty--it was a Dark Elf. "I know you'd have to return to your lair before long! Bold and brass you are, living under the very feet of Buoyant Armigers, probably laughing to yourself at your own cleverness. You'll not be laughing for much longer, I promise you that!"

The soldier pulled out a dagger from his waistline, obviously enchanted from the way the blade reflected in the dim torch light. "Die, unholy filth!"

Cavortius grabbed the handle of the torch behind him, still keeping his eyes on the Armiger, and tossed it. Of course, he had planned on the Armiger dodging out of the way, but it allowed the Imperial time to let his short-sword clear its sheath. He honestly didn't know how in Oblivion the Armiger expected to beat him, as his short-sword was made of Dwemer metal and had a longer reach then the dagger did.

As the Armiger rolled out of the torch's path and back onto his feet, it hit the ground, putting the fire out and further dousing the room in darkness. Then it occurred to Pelelius that he had an advantage: if he completely doused the room in darkness, he could use Night-Eye. With the plan in his mind, Cavortius dashed the few feet to the coffin in front of him, launched off his feet, and extended his left hand at the torch in the opposite corner. From his palm, a Frost spell burst forth, dousing the entire torch in ice and extinguishing the flames. As the 'refuge' became pitch-black, Cavortius invoked Night-Eye and could see things very clearly.

On the other hand, the Buoyant Armiger seemed to have no such magic capabilities, or he wasn't too good with them if he did. As the necromancer tucked and rolled to his feet, he was thankful to still be crouched low, for the space above him was filled with the _swoosh _of a dagger cutting the air. Cavortius spun to face his attacker, who's face held a look of anger, fear, and determination.

The Armiger thrust the dagger toward the Imperial, but Cavortius deflected it with a flick of his short-sword, cutting deep into the Mer's arm and the bleeding followed…yet he didn't expect to be thrown off-balance by his opponent's front-kick. He stumbled back toward the wall, and had barely enough time to dodge away from another thrust as the dagger hit the wall.

After recovering from the clumsy dodge, Cavortius made a chopping motion with his free left hand and hit the Armiger's pressure point near the elbow. He swung around until he was behind the soldier and then stuck his short-sword through a weak spot that didn't cover his waistline.

"By the way, I'm not actually a vampire, and this isn't his actual residence," the Imperial hissed less then an inch from the Armiger's ear. "Doesn't it gall you that you died for nothing?"

With a twist of his Dwemer weapon, the Dark Elf shrieked briefly before succumbing to shock and blood loss, and Pelelius let go of the corpse. Slowly, the adrenalin wore off and he just realized the magnitude of what he had done. Killing a Buoyant Armiger…if he were ever caught, he'd be executed on the spot. Cavortius began to tremble, finding it difficult to make his way to the rickety door that had led him here. At the time Decius had given him the assignment, the fact that the vampire hunter was a Buoyant Armiger slipped by him. Now he cursed and berated himself viciously…then again, if Pelelius had turned down the assignment, who knew if the Order (by way of Decius) would've deemed him a liability and thus have eliminated him?

His head hanging low toward the ground, he closed the door carefully and placed a lock spell on it so nobody could get in. As he rounded the corner, he suddenly remembered that those two Imperial Legionnaires were still hunting for him and when he looked up, he wished he hadn't…because there they were, staring him down with massive scowls.


	8. A Shipment of Literature

-1_Author's Note: My life has been extremely busy the past couple of months, and to be honest, I've put this off, not feeling very creative…until now. I will begin to post regularly soon. For now, enjoy._

The Illuminated Order

Chapter 7 - A Shipment of Literature

For a few minutes, both necromancer and Legionnaires stood in silence as they stared each other down from opposite ends of the corridor.

"What's the meaning of this?" Cavortius asked, hoping to bluff his way out of this in the hopes that _maybe_ they didn't think it was him.

"Why did you run?" the larger soldier asked, confirming the Imperial's suspicion that he was a Nord. "You must've heard us talking about you."

Cavortius swallowed the lump forming in his throat. The truth was, he had heard them coming down the corridor in the Waistworks and recognized their voices. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ah, but see, we've been following you," the other soldier said in a measured voice, his accent clearly Imperial.

The Nord nodded. "I knew it was you in Balmora from the way you carried--"

Without any further way of finishing his sentence, Pelelius used his altered Telekinesis spell to manipulate both men, causing their heads to smash really hard into each other. They both fell to the ground in a crumpled, armored heap.

With much effort, Cavortius managed to drag the two soldiers one by one back toward the false refuge, unlocked the rickety door with an unlock spell, and then dragged them inside. As he stood there in the darkness, he realized he needed to cover his tracks.

_That dead Buoyant Armiger would surely raise hell if they woke up to find it,_ he thought. Carefully, he used a fire spell on touch to ignite the body, watching it burn until their was nothing left but a skeleton and faint traces of the Mer's Chitin armor. Satisfied, the Imperial exited the refuge, relocked it, and teleported back to Decius' hideout.

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As Cavortius landed inside of the hideout, Decius stood from his chair. "My old, decayed rotting heart warms at your presence. Have you taken care of the vampire hunter?"

Cavortius nodded. "He is dead. I burned his body, even though it wasn't exactly necessary."

Decius smiled, licking his lips with satisfaction. "Irony. I love it. Not a moment too soon. The false trails I've seeded are useful, but only until a point. You've performed admirably, and I reward your efforts with promotion within our ranks. For your diligence on this mission, I elevate you to Inquisitor of Obscure Arts."

Cavortius wanted to smile, but with what had recently transpired, he would have to tell Decius. He had no idea how the man would react, but he prepared himself mentally if it was violent. "There's something I need to tell you before I accept another mission."

When Decius indicated he was listening, Pelelius continued. "I'm sure Thuvien told you my history, yes? Well, it seems that High Rock authories finally managed to reach Morrowind, and ever since I started working for the Order, and after a panic attack that caused me to resist two Imperial--"

The necromancer was unable to finish speaking, for Decius shot his hand at Cavortius' throat and he suddenly found himself pinned to the bookshelf, the seemingly friendly vampire's teeth suddenly elongated and his eyes a crimson red. The necromancer was frightened at the thought of dying.

"Stupid human! Look what you've done!" he snarled. "I've been working with the Order since its conception. I've spent my entire life serving them, and _you _come along to muck things up! Do they know of this sanctuary?"

Cavortius rapidly shook his head, and replied in gasps. "No, they do not. As I left the sanctuary, I heard them talking and recognized their voices and I bolted for the sewer. I took care of the vampire hunter, and as I was leaving the false sanctuary, they appeared out of nowhere. I used magic to knock their heads together pretty hard, and I tossed them inside the false sanctuary. It was then that I burned the body."

Decius stared at Cavortius for a few seconds, not saying a word, before releasing his grip on the necromancer's neck. "Thank you for being forthright with me. I didn't want to kill you. You're too valuable an asset. Judging from what you said, they will be knocked out for quite some time. Hopefully, you will be gone by then.

"In the meantime, here is your next mission. The temple in Gnisis has seized a shipment of books that were meant for me. Three books I was having sent to me were confiscated by the Gnisis Temple some time ago when the courier bringing them was found dead outside the temple. Two of those books are not that rare--_The Posting of the Hunt _and _The Old Ways_--but the third, _The Outside_, is exceedingly hard to come by."

The vampire walked over to his desk and sat down in the chair. The sudden change in demeaner in Decius Mus served to further reinforce the notion in Cavortius that the vampire was not one to trifle with. "I must have it. If you can procure all three, so much the better. At minimum, though, you must retrieve _The Outside_ from where ever it's being stored in the Gnisis Temple."

Without any further words, Cavortius Pelelius left the sanctuary and proceeded toward the boat outside, looking to book passage to Vivec. Something was tugging at him, though, and upon further reflection, it was the fact that the courier ended up dead. It was the way Decius had said it with a tinge of weariness. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind as he paid the captain the fare for Vivec.

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The sun was beginning to set as Cavortius stepped off the Silt Strider port in Gnisis, the sun setting behind a red and white dome that sat atop a nearby hill. The town of Gnisis, according to his map, was located in northwestern Vvardenfell, located on the Ouada Samsi. He had taken the boat to Vivec, took the Silt Strider to Seyda Neen, then to Gnisis from there. Conveniently enough, the Gnisis Temple was located in the center of the town, and so he made his way there at once.

Inside, Cavortius was struck with how plain the Temple was. _You'd think they would spice up the place with some paintings or something,_ he thought absently. For the next fifteen minutes, Pelelius wandered around the temple, checking every bookshelf he came across, but had no luck.

As he was about to give up, he entered a room with two slopes in the center that led to a catwalk of sorts around the perimeter of the room. Between the two slopes where it was level was a strange gray mask of sorts laying upright on a stone pedestal about knee-high. Curious as to why such a random object would be in the temple, Cavortius approached it and was about to touch it when he heard a growl near by. The necromancer jumped back in surprise, looking around for the source of the growl, which turned out to be an Ordinator, the holy warriors of the Temple.

"Don't touch that, filthy outlander," the guard rasped. "Or I'll cut off the fingers you touch it with."

"I'm sorry," Cavortius replied, "I was just curious as to why a mask would be here."

"That mask was formed from Our Lord's tears as he led his followers away from Red Mountain during a fierce blight storm. Weary and tired, they rested here in Gnisis. When he woke up, he found himself and his followers encased in ash, leaving Vivec full of despair. Vivec's tears weakened his ash cast. He tore the ash from his perished followers, breathed life into their lungs, and cured them of the blight." The guard breathed slightly, having almost run out of breath from the spiel.

"Wow," Pelelius said. "That's quite heroic of him."

The Ordinator nodded. "Indeed. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my dinner."

The guard briskly walked out of the sacred room, leaving Cavortius alone with the ash mask. He spied a bookcase off to his left, and a glimmer of hope filled his eyes. Walking over, he was surprised to find the three books that Decius had asked for. Looking around, he stuffed all three books in his rucksack, tied the top tightly, and quickly but discreetly exited the temple. By the time he got outside, it was completely dark. Torches were lit on the various buildings, which provided some illumination.

As he made for the Silt Strider port, he noticed a woman in a brown robe with short brown-blonde hair about to get on the large bug. The robe seemed to be form-fitting; as he approached, he noticed that she had a voluptuous rear. There was something about her that immediately appealed to him.

"Hi," he said sheepishly. "I'm Cavortius. Where are you going?"

The woman turned around, and for a second, he thought he saw a glint of recognition in her eyes, almost as though they had met before. Then again, it may have been something else--he couldn't tell in the dim of the torchlight.

"Vivec," she replied, smiling wide. "I'm Helga Swift-Hands. Where are _you_ going?"

"Truthfully, I'm also going to Vivec." _She's beautiful,_ he thought.

"Well, now, what's a handsome man like you doing all alone?" Helga asked, stepping closer to him. "Let's go together. You look like you could use some company. I know of a place we could sit and talk."

Cavortius found her request odd, but how could he pass up such an opportunity? On top of that, he needed a break from the Order. He smiled at Helga, and said, "I would love that. I'll even pay for your ride."

After giving the driver the necessary amount of gold, they climbed into the hollowed out shell of the Silt Strider and they were on their way to Seyda Neen.


	9. The Pool of Forgetfulness

_Author's Note: I realized I made an error in the last chapter about Cavortius' arrival in Gnisis, written as if it was his first time there when, in fact, it wasn't. He had used Divine Intervention in Chapter 2 and ended up there. That's what I get for putting off my own story haha. Here we go._

The Illuminated Order

Chapter 8 - The Pool of Forgetfulness

Cunius Pelelius was sitting by the fireplace in the Governor's Hall reading the latest reports on the Caldera Ebony Mine when there was knock on his door.

"Enter," he stated gruffly.

His aide walked in with a manila envelope sealed with red wax. "This just came in, sir. I was told by the courier who brought it that it was most urgent. He didn't say from who it was from."

"Bring it here." The aide swiftly walked across the room and handed it to the Lawman. He walked back across the room and put his hand on the latch, setting it to lock behind him after walking out. "Anything else I can do for you, Cunius?"

The Lawman shook his head. "Nothing more tonight, but thank you. I'm going to bed after I read this letter."

"As you wish." The aide closed the door gently, the lock clicking into place. Cunius tore open the envelope and began to read the parchment within it.

"_To Cunius Pelelius, Lawman of House Hlaalu, Vvardenfell District of Morrowind: _

_The targets you have requested to be executed have been considered and the operations are a go. Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu will take some time in regards to resources, but rest assured, we will send our best men to complete the contract. Your other request has already been put into motion, and you shall receive notification upon completion of the contract._

_--DV"_

Cunius smiled cruelly. Everything was going according to plan. He placed the parchment back in the envelope and tossed it into the fire. He stood from the chair and stared intently at the flames as it burned. Then he doused the flames with a pitcher of water before crawling into bed.

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Cavortius estimated that it was midnight as the Silt Strider carrying himself and his new companion reached Seyda Neen. They stepped off the massive creature onto the port and they strolled off the ramp.

"I know of a perfect place where we can just sit and relax," Helga Swift-Hands said as they walked away from the quaint town. She stopped abruptly. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

The necromancer shook his head. He reasoned that Decius could wait a little--he really needed time to relax. "No, not at all. I'm really glad we met, by the way."

The Nord beamed. "Me too. I was beginning to think I'd be all alone here. Maybe that won't be the case."

The pair continued down the pathway toward a fork in the road, one way leading to Pelagiad and the other towards Vivec. "Here it is," Helga announced and she stopped walking to sit down on a small bank that faced the water. The torch lights from Seyda Neen could be seen burning inside people's homes even from this distance.

Cavortius laid next to Helga, scooting closer after adjusting his position to be more comfortable. They just laid on the ground, staring at the stars, admiring how beautiful the night was.

_What more could I ask for? A beautiful night with a beautiful girl,_ he thought. _It can't get any better._

Pelelius had his eyes closed, but they opened suddenly when the beautiful body of Helga Swift-Hands appeared over him. "Hi, sweetie. Want to play?"

The Imperial was struck by the randomness of this act, as well as wondering how he got so lucky. She winked at him as a further incentive to join.

_Come on, what do you have to lose?_

"Yes, I would love to play," he replied with a mischievous grin. She giggled, and slowly slid her hands down his chest until they hovered over his crotch. Helga lifted up the bottom fabric of his robe, dragging her nails softly down his inner thighs before putting her mouth between his legs.

Cavortius gripped the ground firmly, finding immense pleasure from what she was doing. He closed his eyes and arched his back. _This can only lead to something better_, he thought with glee.

He was so into what Helga was doing that he almost didn't hear the sound of a bladed weapon clearing its sheath, and a part of his mind wondered why it was happening as well as how he could've been so stupid. Regaining his senses, he slammed both his knees together into Helga's head, roughly hitting the temple on each side. Her mouth unclamped around his crotch, and he kicked her down the bank into the water.

Cavortius stood and unsheathed his dwarven sword, ready to charge down and strike, only to be assaulted and tackled to the ground by Helga. They rolled along the bank, exchanging head butts, knees, and punches until Pelelius managed to gain the upper hand by ending up on top of her.

Holding her arms down with his legs, he put the blade of his sword against her throat and yelled, "Who are you really? Why did you try to kill me?"

All he got in reply was an evil sneer, and a glob of spit on his chin. Taking that as a sign that she wasn't going to speak, Cavortius shrugged. "That's fine by me."

He quickly slid the short-sword across Helga's throat, leaving a clean, deep cut. The sound of blood gurgling inside her throat as she struggled to breathe was not a pleasurable sound and she finally expired after it stopped.

The necromancer began to pat her down, looking for any indication of who she might be. He eventually found a piece of paper inside of her robe.

"_Your target is an Imperial male from the province of High Roc named Cavortius Pelelius, a necromancer who formerly worked with Mannimarco himself. This makes him extremely dangerous, so you might have to get creative. He was last seen in southwestern Vvardenfell, so start there. I trust you will complete the task swiftly, Irena._

_--DV"_

Cavortius stared at the crimson red signature at the bottom of the parchment paper—it was the unmistakable sign of the Dark Brotherhood.

_What the hell could they want with me?_ he wondered. He didn't think he had irked anyone _that_ bad but in Tamriel, one could never be sure. After sorting through Helga Swift-Hands/Irena's belongings, taking and leaving what he wanted, Pelelius rolled Irena's body into the water, and pushed it until it began to float away. Fog started to roll in, and as the body of the assassin disappeared, so did the necromancer as he activated the amulet around his neck.

He landed back in the Sanctuary right in front of Decius. _Funny how he always happens to be right here waiting for me,_ he thought.

"I've gotten quite peckish waiting for your return," the vampire said with a tinge of excitement. "Have you obtained the shipment of books?"

The necromancer nodded and pulled all three books from his rucksack. "Got all three of them right here. They weren't hard at all to grab."

Decius Mus grinned broadly as he took the books and sat them on his desk. He then reached into his shirt pocket and produced a glowing amulet. "I'm most pleased by your commendable efficiency. Here, take this as a small reward for your work on your mission. I hope you find it useful."

Cavortius took the amulet and put it in his rucksack, telling himself that he would take the time to experiment with it later. Right now, the teleportation amulet was infinitely more useful. He also decided that he wouldn't tell Decius about the Dark Brotherhood assassin—especially considering his reaction to the Imperial Legion soldiers who were currently snoozing in Molag Mar's underworks. Instead, he asked what he could do next for the vampire.

"The head of the Armiger stronghold, Ulms Drathan, is becoming suspicious. I prefer not to kill someone of his stature, so we must rely on alternate means of ending his threat to me."

"How is that going to work?" Pelelius asked.

"We shall simply make him forget that he has any reason to suspect anything," Decius replied, not trying to hide his glee. "We will accomplish this with water from the Pool of Forgetfulness, which you will find just east of the Ghostgate in a cavern named Sharapli, located outside the fence itself."

The vampire of Order walked to his desk, and produced a flask from one of the drawers. "Take this special flask, fill it from the Pool, then go to the Armiger stronghold here in Molag Mar and look for Drathan. Near him will be a pitcher of water. Pour the water from the Pool into the pitcher and he'll forget all the recent events once he drinks from it."

Before he left, Cavortius pulled out his map of Vvardenfell and had his fellow Imperial mark the location of Ghostgate as well as Sharapli. From the looks and sounds of it, he had a long journey ahead of him.

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Off in the distance, through a thick heavy ash storm, Cavotius could barely make out the Ghostgate. Behind it was what the natives called the Ghostfence, a massive shimmering blue force field of magic that had kept something called the blight at bay for centuries. Supposedly at the center was an evil being from the past who dwelled under Red Mountain, but it was only speculation from what the necromancer could gleam off the populace. Either way, this ash storm wasn't natural.

With his hand covering the slit in his helm, Pelelius made a right at a passage between two large hills, and then a left. He followed this all the way to the end until he reached the Ghostfence and an old wooden door etched into the hillside. The word 'Sharapli' was carved into the frame of the door.

Cavortius took a deep breath, removed his dwarven short-sword, and quietly opened the door. He peeked around the frame, and seeing nothing after casting Night-Eye, he stepped in. It was very difficult to see and the entire passageway was bathed in dim red light. He didn't know why, but something felt very off about this place. As he crept down the corridor of the cave, he soon came into a large room with a natural dirt and stone catwalk that twisted over a pool of lava.

Down in the center of the catwalk was a creature he had never seen before and the sight of it sent shivers all across his spine. It appeared to be the color of ash, with a piece of cloth fitted around the neck that covered the shoulders as well as a long skirt of sorts. It was the face that truly terrified him, though—it was eyeless and nose less, and had a long snout extending out of where the face should be. He had seen many things as a necromancer that would terrify most people, but what he saw before wasn't human…or at least, it used to be. This was one time out of a very few moments in his life where he was afraid.

_What in Oblivion _is _that thing?_ Cavortius' mind shouted.

Whatever it was, it wasn't friendly, as it soon spotted him standing at the top of the cavern and began to make its way toward him. With a flick of his wrist, Cavortius casted the most powerful lightning spell he could muster, and hoped it would connect.

It did, and the spell hit the creature with such force that it became off-balance and fell into the lava below, effectively incinerating it. The necromancer knew that what had just happened was purely out of luck, and the only reason he had used such a powerful spell was because he had no idea how strong the creature was.

Right after the hideous creature expired, he heard feet sprinting double-time up the catwalk and was almost dumbfounded at the sight of the Dark Elf in a loin-cloth wielding a spiked club.

_So it begins_, the Imperial thought as he raised his short-sword for the inevitable attack.

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Thirty minutes of intense sword-play, spell casting, and retreating soon yielded lots of blood, corpses, and Cavortius standing before the Pool of Forgetfulness. He took out the tapered flask that Decius had provided, uncorked the top, and dipped it into the Pool, which resembled a small fountain. Pushing the cork tight enough to be able to get it off again, he stuffed it in his rucksack and began to backtrack out of Sharapli for the ride back to Molag Mar.

He hoped that the creatures he had encountered within the cave would be the last time, but somehow Cavortius had the feeling that it wouldn't.

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Once Cavortius got back to Molag Mar, he entered the waistworks and quickly found the Armiger stronghold. He had to keep in mind that the two Imperial Legionnaires could emerge at any moment, so it served to put him on edge.

He casually strolled around the stronghold with the flask in his hand, and after careful surveillance and finding only one room with a pitcher, he walked in, poured the contents of the flask, and walked out of the stronghold. Cavortius was confident that he hadn't been spotted. With a smile on his face, he teleported back to the Sanctuary and appeared before Decius Mus.

"You know, I heard footsteps outside the hidden door earlier," Decius stated uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. "I do believe it was Drathan nosing around. There isn't much time—"

The necromancer held up a hand to silence the Imperial vampire, and handed him the flask. "Relax. I just poured the water, and soon he won't remember a damned thing."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "He'll surely have a sip soon and that, as they say, will be that. For your success in this mission, I once again elevate you within our ranks. Henceforth, you are Cavortius the Inquisitor of Shadowy Visions."

"Thank you," Pelelius replied with a warm smile. Something was nagging at him, though. "Forgive me for sounding callous, but what have I learned?"

"You're not being callous, so don't worry. What you're learning while under my wing is how a vampire lives, what he has to do to keep hidden in plain sight, and also you're getting a taste of Vvardenfell."

Cavortius nodded, though inwardly he wish he could have learned a bit more, but he figured he shouldn't argue with a man who could probably kill him a number of different ways.

Little did Cavortius know that a series of irreversible events was about to occur, all from the killing of Irena, Dark Brotherhood Silencer.


End file.
